Of the Night
by TheGirlWhoSawImagination
Summary: Being the daughter of a primordial goddess isn't something that you'd really expect for a half-blood, especially when said primordial goddess is Nyx. Yet, Percy Jackson, well, she's definitely not ordinary, even by demigod standards, that's for sure. Daughter of Nyx, possible child of the Great Prophecy, and gods trying to watch her every move. What could be more fun?
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: Don't own.**

**A/N: Warnings, as per usual when there's a gigantic AU: female Percy, OOC, AU (naturally, but I thought I would put this in here anyways), good Luke, male Sally, I think there's probably at least quite a few more, but I can't think of them, they're obvious, or they're plot spoilers. So then, I usually don't ask this, but please review! I got this idea one night and couldn't let it go. Damn you plot bunnies!**

_**~Prologue~**_

A woman walked by herself in the dead middle of the night, relishing in the darkness and quietness of it, and feeling the breeze that was mixed with the smell of the wilderness and the ocean.

She actually seemed to draw in the night itself, like she was the source of it, and she also gave off an aura that would send chills down a person's spine. Her appearance didn't help out the aura, either. Black hair that was messy and unruly went down to the middle of her back, and she had pale skin that contrasted that, though the color of her skin made it look like she hadn't been out in the sun for years. Which in truth, she hadn't, but that wasn't really the reason why she was so pale; she was rather tall. Naturally blood red lips added to her beauty, as well as indigo eyes that flickered now and then to midnight blue, like they couldn't decide on which color to stay at. She wore a black dress that went down to just above her knees, and was ruffled and strapless, and she also wore black boots. Overall, she was beautiful, but she was just as equally terrifying.

Her name was Nyx. The primordial goddess of the night.

The goddess was currently pondering on a little bit of everything and nothing. She was thinking about her great-nephews, and how they had taken that pact to not have any more children, to prevent a prophecy from coming true. Just at the thought, she almost snorted. The key word was 'almost'. Yet, the youngest out of the three of them, Zeus, had already broken that oath. He had fallen in love with a mortal, and had a daughter. Poseidon hadn't fallen for a mortal, and by Nyx's judgment, he probably wouldn't. Tartarus knows that there would be hell to pay for if he did. Hades, however, wouldn't, especially not after the death of his beloved Maria di Angelo decades ago.

Then there was the fact that her least favorite nephew, although she couldn't kid herself with the fact she hated all of the six Titans, was rising once more. Slowly, but surely, he was rising. Maybe in about a decade or two, or so, and though he didn't have a body, Nyx didn't have a doubt that he would find some way to rise, probably by means of convincing a demigod. The bastard. Using _**children**_ as his pawns, of all things! Oh, how much she wanted to torture him for the things that he had done and will do in the future.

But she couldn't do a thing, which sometimes just angered her even more. Her soul sang for blood, yet she couldn't do anything about it.

Yet, she was alone. What many did not know was that she had divorced her brother, Erebos, a long time ago. Several centuries, in fact. The reasons why were part of a long story, one that towards the end, grew slightly sadistic, not that it really mattered in the end. The Olympians didn't even know about it, thankfully. If they did, they would probably make her and her ex-husband get put into a deep sleep that would last for several millennia. And she did not want that to happen. It wouldn't be fair, either. Just because she was older, it didn't mean that she was evil like the Golden Age titans and titanesses, save for Rhea, Themis, Mnemosyne, and a few others.

Alone in a world where she was only allowed out during the night. How fitting.

Nyx knew that she shouldn't complain. Some of her sister's offspring had it much worse. Leto and Calypso were in their prisons, because although they were nice, comfortable, and pleasant, they were still prisons. The same went for Rhea, even if she had not fought in the First Titan War, and even though she had helped Zeus make Kronos throw up his five siblings, she was still locked away. The goddess of the night made a note that she would need to visit Rhea, and possibly Leto. She couldn't visit Calypso, as the third generation gods and goddesses did, and that would be a risk of being discovered. Nyx just couldn't allow that.

Over the millennia, though, her family had grown distant with her, especially her own daughter, Hemera, the opposite of her, the primordial goddess of the day. Many thought that she was resentful of them, but that was not the case for most. She had grown depressed from being around Erebos, and the fact that she was angry at him only fueled her depression and already bad temper, which caused her a lot of the time to lash out at others. Another one of her daughters, Nemesis, third generation goddess of balance and justice, could tell, and was the one who encouraged her to divorce Erebos, and was there for her to this very day. It was comforting to know she still had a mother-daughter relationship with the goddess, and occasionally her mother, Chaos, when she came every few centuries for a visit to Earth. But other than that, she was alone.

Nemesis had suggested she find a new lover, a mortal, and make him immortal, since as a primordial, she could do so if she wished and nobody but Chaos herself could argue with the goddess, but Nyx had refused. Yes, if she met a mortal who met up to her expectations, she would do so, but she had many expectations. The mortal would have to be kind, selfless, loyal, not easily angered, willing to protect family, and good with kids to meet to her standards. And so far, she had not come across a man just like that, with all those expectations. Maybe it wasn't a good thing to expect perfection, because in her eyes a person like that was perfection, but she did anyways. But like she said, she hadn't found a mortal, or at least not a mortal man, whom was like that. And she didn't favor Amphitrite as an enemy.

Nor would she want a child born from the Olympians. Not that she had anything against most of them, but it was just the fact that a child of a primordial and god, though she liked to call them third generation as she was a goddess as well, would be too powerful. Way too powerful for her own liking. No, a legacy or pure mortal would be fine for her, though she would make them immortal most likely, the child wouldn't be too powerful, and she wouldn't have to worry about Zeus making the child an outcast or worse, destroying him or her.

Nyx let out a sigh. She really was putting too much thought into this. It was extremely unlikely she would ever have another child, no matter how much she wanted one, no matter how much she wanted to hold a baby of her own in her arms, it just couldn't be, no matter how much she wanted, and no matter how hard she cried or wished. Her daughters, the Fates, could be cruel. Many said that that the three got it from her, but that was not true. They got it from their ass of a father, if anything.

Still, the thought of a little bundle of joy always made the corners of her lips quirk upwards, if only a little bit.

Continuing on her walk, and still pondering her thoughts, she then saw something that pulled her away from them. Something rather odd. In the distance, there was a light, a campfire. Something that shouldn't be there in the middle of the night.

The goddess frowned. If anything, this was definitely odd, and possibly a little bit worrying. There shouldn't be a campfire on, as most mortals would be sleeping at this hour in the night, but there this fire was. Maybe somebody had forgotten to put it out, but she didn't like that thought, either. It could cause forest fires, harm animals, and she knew that Artemis would definitely not be happy about a careless mortal forgetting to put out a simple campfire before he or she went to bed.

Yet, she could also see a silhouette of a figure, sitting on a log. Curious, she quickly let the darkness make herself invisible, before walking slowly towards the light, remaining cautious, unless this figure was either a monster, a god or goddess, or a demigod. Either of those three were things that she definitely did not want to cross, though usually she would've shadow-travelled or flashed away, her curiosity won the better of her.

When she got close enough, she saw that it was a man, writing something, although when she got as far she could get, he scribbled something out of the notebook. He seemed to be tired, judging from how his shoulders were slightly slumped.

She wasn't really sure what she should do. The easiest and most probably option would be to get away, go to somewhere else on the world, since she couldn't go back to one of her homes, on Tartarus or at one of the Poles, until Hemera had gone outside, which would not be for quite a while. Yet, this mortal was interesting. Maybe he had insomnia, or since he had a notebook, maybe writers' block?

For a few minutes, she just stood perfectly still, watching pencil move on paper, most of the writing being either erased or scribbled out. "I know you're out there," the man said suddenly, "I won't hurt you so you might as well show yourself."

Nyx's eyes widened. He could sense her? Well, he was at the very least a clear-sighted mortal. She didn't know really what to think about that. But nevertheless, for some reason she complied, letting the darkness go away from her, unveiling herself from the night. Cautiously, she then took a few steps toward the fire, until the glow separated her from the night.

The man looked up from his notebook, pencil still in hand, and smiled. "Thank you for that, I don't think it would be very polite to not invite someone to sit down at the very least. That just wouldn't do."

She blinked in surprise, and sat down on the opposite side of the fire. He was the first person besides Nemesis and Chaos to even think about offering her a seat, or to talk to her in a kind way for that matter. He was strange, to put it bluntly.

He had brown hair, which was slightly lighter than dark brown, and he looked as if he had been out at a sunny beach all day. Maybe he had. She didn't really know about the weather during the daytime anymore. Sea green eyes looked at her, but not judging her, and she had a feeling if she looked too long, she would get lost in them. Sea green eyes, almost like the ocean at points itself. Yet, as she looked, they turned a sea blue, which befuddled her to say the least.

"Maybe I should be thanking you," she said finally. "Not many people willingly show me kindness anymore."

He frowned. "Well, if it's okay with you, I'm going to say that maybe they need to look further, because you seem like a nice person. The name's Salus Jackson."

"Latin," she noted, and he nodded. "My name's Nyx."

Salus nodded again. "The Greek primeval goddess of the night. I take it that you're her?"

Once again, her eyes widened. "How did you," she tried to ask, but she couldn't quite say the whole sentence. _How did you know that?_ He knew! He was definitely clear-sighted, yet she got a slight aura off of him, not like that mattered. But still!

"I see odd things," he replied with a ghost of a smile. "I came to the conclusion a long time ago that at least some of the Greek 'myths', such as the Minotaur exist. It isn't such of a shocker to find out that a goddess such as yourself exists. Besides, I saw you _**literally**_ come out of the darkness, like it was a curtain. Kind of obvious."

"I suppose it is," she smiled again. "But then again, I don't expect a mortal to be able to see me. You're what we call clear-sighted, meaning you can see through the Mist. An extraordinary trait."

"Thank you, Lady Nyx."

She shook her head. "Please, just call me Nyx, no formalities. My rein has long since been over, and I'm not that important anymore either. Not to mention the fact that I have never liked being called a 'Lady' anyways."

That was the truth. To be called a Lady just seemed so odd, or at least nowadays. Gaea, Hera, and some others may like to be called that, but Nyx didn't.

She decided to change the subject. "Are you having troubles with your story, Salus?"

"You could say that. I don't really know what to write. There are quite a few ideas in my brain, but none of them seem fitting enough, save for two. One of them I don't think will get me anywhere, and the other one—I have writer's block on it. I need inspiration, so that's the reason why I'm out here. Montauk, well, it's usually a good place for my imagination, but I just can't think of anything!"

The goddess thought for a few moments. She had written stories before, something to do while the hours kept on passing by, but they were usually short or very, very, long. "Inspiration comes at odd times," she said. "But you can't give up. Because if you give up, then you have to start from square one again. I would say more, but each method for a writer is different and unique. You can't just expect for one method to work for you all the time."

Salus' eyes then suddenly lit up, and he said a quick 'thank you' before he put the pencil once more on the paper, except this time he wrote quickly, and didn't erase or ex out the words. Nyx looked at him for a few more moments, before she stared into the dancing flames. This mortal was. . . . Different, though, in a good way. He seemed like a breath of fresh air. A breath of fresh air from others that she had come across in her millennia upon millennia. And she liked it. She liked the sense of something new, something fresh, something that surprised her.

The sound of the pencil continued on, and the two of them sat in companionable silence. Nyx was happy at the moment that there was another person out there that was willing to be kind to her.

* * *

><p>A million thoughts were going through her head.<p>

Nyx let out a sigh, letting herself slump into the cozy, black, couch. The quietness around her was a little bit unnerving, not a single sound besides her steady breathing. Her eyes were closed, as if she were sleeping, but that was, of course, not the case.

She was currently residing in her house at the South Pole, where freezing temperatures, without the proper care or equipment, would cause mortals to freeze to death. The goddess didn't really mind the cold, in fact, it was rather welcoming.

The house was gigantic, and mortals would mistake it for a glacier or mountain, one of the two. Most of it was black, while the rest of it was silver, white, and indigo. However, the interior was a mixture of modern and ancient décor, as well as the fact that half of the rooms were made for beings that were forty feet tall, while the other half was made for beings at mortal height. Besides her, it used to house one other occupant that she rarely had gotten to see, and hadn't seen for millennia. But she didn't really want to dwell on that fact.

Nyx sat in one of the two living rooms, the smaller one, which had more modern furniture and decorations than the other one did. Her black hair was as messy as always, she was still wearing those black boots, but this time, she was wearing a different black dress. It had sleeves, halfway between her shoulders and elbows, went down to just above her knees like the other one, except there was a definitely different design to it. Because instead of ruffles, there seemed to be actual stars sewn into the fabric.

She had been visiting Salus Jackson for the past two months, though, after the first month, something unexpected had happened. Nyx, the primordial Goddess of the Night, had fallen in love.

_**Love.**_

At least she could say it wasn't a certain niece of hers that had caused this, because that niece, just like her family, didn't know that Nyx was still awake. So it had to be natural. Still, it was quite shocking that she, supposedly the cruelest of the primordials, had fallen in love with a mortal. Maybe Nemesis was right after all. Maybe, just maybe, Salus would accept her offer, but unlike others, she knew it wouldn't be quite yet for him to say 'yes'. He still had a lot to live for.

Tonight, as usual, she would visit him. He was still at Montauk, staying there for the summer. It was late July now, the summer heat lessening in the night, thankfully. His story was coming along a lot better now, and he often said that she was his source of inspiration, and would thank her directly after that most of the time. She didn't really know what to think about that. Yet, when she told him about her own problems, he would nod, and say that the rest of her family should've seen the truth, but he didn't give her pity, nor did he badmouth her sisters, brother, and plenty of nieces and nephews, no matter how many greats they were. Overall, she knew now that it would've been near impossible for her to not fall in love with him.

However, she was pulled from her thoughts when a cold voice said, "Mother."

Immediately, Nyx's eyes snapped open, for a split second she was in panic. Yet, she calmed just as quickly when she saw who it was. It was a woman, appearing to be in her early twenties, with most of the same facial features that the goddess of night had. Yet, there were quite a few differences. For one, the woman had more skin color to her, but not quite tan. Her hair went down to her shoulders, and was not messy, but instead was in tight ringlets, very curly, though a jet black instead of the night goddess' midnight. Her eyes were a sharp grey, but not like Athena's. Though, the woman's eyes also flickered at times into a cruel black, the latter being the same eye color that Nyx hated. The woman's eyes held a coldness in them, and yet analyzing the primordial goddess herself. She wore a red jacket, black jeans, black boots, with a whip tied to her jeans.

Nyx smiled. "Nemesis," she greeted her daughter. "Such a pleasure to see you, though, I must say that it is rather unexpected."

Nemesis' eyes narrowed, her eyes searching even more so than before. The primordial goddess' smile faltered a little bit, but other than that she didn't move or say anything else. Finally, her daughter spoke up, "You've changed. Something is different, very different. You're closer to being balanced; the way you should be. Who has changed you, Mother?"

Nyx mentally shook her head, slightly in defeat. There was no use in hiding anything from her daughter, because Nemesis always had a way of figuring out if somebody was hiding something, no matter how much the person tried to hide it. After all, she was the goddess of balance, justice, and vengeance. So, the primordial goddess gestured to her daughter to sit next to her, which she complied to.

"You were right," Nemesis raised an eyebrow at the words that her mother had just said. "You were right, Nemesis. And you are right about somebody changing me. Whether it's for good or worse, it's your opinion. But the person that I have met. . . ." she trailed off for a second, before picking back up. "His name is Salus Jackson, a clear-sighted mortal."

"You've fallen in love," the third generation goddess deadpanned.

Nyx nodded. "Yes, I guess I have."

Then, her daughter did something so strange, she nearly fell off the couch. Nemesis' cold expression went away, something the primordial goddess had only seen on occasions that she could count on one hand. Her eyes became indigo, their natural color, the sharp grey and cruel black disappearing. And then, Nemesis _**smiled**_. Not like her other smiles, that promised bad luck for eternity or justice being served, but a _**true**_, _**genuine**_, _**smile**_.

Though, the goddess of the night then got another surprise. "I'm happy for you, Mother," she said simply, and Nyx's eyes widened as her daughter continued on. "I wish that I could make Father pay for what he has done to you, but I cannot, no matter how much justice you deserve. But you've found another person. You're moving on, and you're finally being balanced, something I haven't seen on this level before! A clear-sighted mortal though, is rather interesting. Are you sure that he is just a mortal?"

"He's not a demigod, if that is what you mean, Nemesis," Nyx replied. "His parents died in a plane crash when he was little. Are you suggesting that he's a legacy?"

"Maybe," her daughter shrugged.

Nyx pondered that for a moment. There was always a possibility of a mortal being a descendant of a god or goddess—maybe. But he could see _**clearly**_, unlike demigods and legacies.

Nemesis continued, smile still on her face, "Besides, if he has won your heart, then he is worthy of it. Not even Father had won your heart, you married him because it had seemed fitting, seeing as how he is the primordial god of darkness, and you the night; you had thought that you had loved him, but you didn't. I only wish the best for you, Mother. You deserve better, you deserve justice, and yet my sisters have not been kind to you at all."

She was overcome with extreme happiness suddenly. Her daughter's words of acceptance crashed over her, in a good way. Of course, she wouldn't have needed her daughter's acceptance, but she had wanted it. Nemesis was the only family on Earth that she had left, the only one to still accept her for who she is, to see past the resentment she had once had. And to hear that her love was accepted, even if the third generation goddess had said she should fall in love with a mortal before. . . . Well, it was one of the best feelings in the world.

"Thank you," Nyx grinned, and it was then Nemesis' turn to blink. "Thank you for everything, daughter. . . . You have no idea how much you've helped me over the centuries. But right now, I feel like the happiest woman alive. Thank you."

"Like I said, you deserve better," Nemesis said. "Many deserve much better, and many who have much better deserve worse, far worse. Being abused for millennia isn't right, and _**Erebos**_ deserves to have the same punishment as he gave you. Or," the goddess of vengeance smiled one of her usual smiles, "He needs to have Artemis and her Hunt give him some lessons, particularly in jackalopes, or the other punishment."

Nyx laughed softly. Nemesis then pulled her mother into a quick embrace, before getting up. The same slightly sadistic smile stayed, while her indigo eyes then changed back to the sharp grey and cruel black, to which the primordial goddess resisted the urge to shiver. Her expression became cold, and the goddess of balance, justice, and vengeance was back to her regular self. "I must be going now, Mother," even her voice had returned to the same cold tone, "Dictators to crush, genocides, executions, and trials to bring. I would wish you the best of luck, but there is no such thing, really." Nemesis laughed sharply. "Goodbye, Mother."

And with a flash of dark red light, the goddess flashed away, no doubt about to do the things that she had said, leaving Nyx sitting on her couch, their short discussion ending rather abruptly. She blinked, before looking at one of the clocks on the wall, and smiling. A multitude of emotions were going through her at the moment, all of them what people would call 'happy' feelings. It didn't really matter to her, though, what the feelings were, just as long as they were good ones.

Letting out a sigh, she got up off the couch. Two months. She had fallen in love after one. It was something completely foreign to her, because Nemesis was right. She had never loved Erebos, never. It had only made sense for them to be husband and wife, because he was darkness and she was night, two of the things in the world that supposedly went well together. Yet, where she was gentle, the primordial god had been harsh. Where she was kind, he was cruel. They didn't really go well together hardly at all, and they never would.

So, no matter how much he may try in the future to get her 'back', her ex-husband could never compare to Salus, nor would she want him to. Because nobody could compare to the one that she loved, nobody. She bit her lip, noting the fact that that sounded kind of selfish or arrogant, or at least to her. Nobody could compare, though. He was the love of her life, the only romantic love she had ever experienced. Nyx just didn't want their time together to end, like other godly-mortal relationships had had with her nieces and nephews. No, she knew it would eventually either have to come to an end, at least only for a while, or he would accept right away. That tore her a little bit.

Yet, something in the back of her mind was telling her that she was forgetting something, but what? What could it possibly be that she was forgetting? It must be the nerves, she decided. Because she wasn't forgetting anything.

Finally, she shook herself out of her ponderings and looked at her dress, and frowned. It wouldn't do. Stars looking as if they were almost literally sewn onto a dress? That would be unnerving to any mortal, clear-sighted or not. And if it wasn't unnerving, they would probably stare at it for a while. With a snap of her fingers, Nyx suddenly wore a completely different outfit. What mortals call a black 'tunic top', with silver cutoffs, not too short nor too long, and finally black sneakers and matching socks; overall, she thought that the outfit was pretty modern.

Though, in her opinion, dresses were so much easier. Because really, you could make a design that didn't look too modern nor too 'old-fashioned' or ancient. With outfits like what people wore today. . . . That didn't really happen. And in all honesty, Nyx dreaded what was going to come, as there wasn't a doubt that there would be some drastic changes in mortal fashion in the next decades. Though, it wouldn't be as some of the fashion that had happened in history, but she wouldn't name any, as there were quite a few, and it might include this one soon, but she doubted it. It was better than wearing corsets, because no matter how much she loved to wear those dresses, the corsets were a bitch.

And with that, Nyx flashed out of her South Pole mansion, being enveloped in a midnight black light, and going off to see a certain mortal at Montauk.

**A/N: And done! Wow. . . . A little bit shorter then I intended it to be, but go figure. Anyways, what do you guys think? The prologue's kind of boring in my opinion, but it wasn't about Percy. Things will get more action-packed when I introduce 'the gang'. Much more interesting.**

**Another thing is that Nyx is very OOC compared to the canon version, meh. I'm a night owl, and if I had a godly parent and I got to choose who it would be, my first choice would be Nyx. Night owl alert! As for Nemesis' reaction, tried to make her as canon as possible, didn't exactly go as planned. Her mother needed support, and with this balance in her life, who could deny that it would be good for the goddess of balance to show the support that Nyx needed?**

**So then, I shall be on my merry way. Ya know, places to go to, things to write (on my other stories, try to get my muse to come up with ideas for them), and whatnot. See you all next chapter!**


	2. Chapter 1: Field Trips

**Disclaimer: Don't own, to put it simply.**

**A/N: And I'M BACK! For the first chapter (officially) of this story!**

_**~Chapter 1: Field Trips~**_

Percy Jackson sighed as she looked out the window of the school bus.

It was another day in May for her, even if they were going on a class field trip. Another day in May, which meant another day of torture, in the sense of being a student at Yancy Academy, a school for delinquents, even though she didn't consider herself one, she did have to admit she was just a little bit of a troubled kid, but only just a little.

So here she was now, sitting on the school bus full of twenty-eight mental case students, what could be more fun than that?

Not to mention the fact that this was her sixth school in six years. See, she had a habit of being expelled from every single school that she had ever attended, for some reason trouble just seemed to follow her. It wasn't like she meant to blow up the school bus with the cannon last year, or the year before that when she accidentally made the class take a swim with the sharks. . . . Yeah, this year she was determined to be good. Besides, the headmaster had threatened her with death by in-school suspension if anything, _**anything**_, went wrong on this field trip. Like she said, Percy was determined to be good.

She wanted to get through an entire school year without being expelled. It would be an accomplishment, really. Since for some reason she always got in trouble, even if she hadn't been aiming for the school bus, it somehow just got itself aimed at the bus. Or the fact that she hadn't meant to make the catwalk let them take a swim, the lever had seemed broken, and she meant to lean on it since she hadn't been feeling too great at the time. But no, the blame was still put on her, for whatever reason.

Yet, on a bus with those twenty-eight mental case school kids, she found it hard to be good. Because when Percy turned around to talk with her friend, Grover, she found him being pelted with pieces of peanut butter and _**ketchup**_ sandwich, being thrown by the bane of her existence, Nancy Bobofit, resident redheaded, freckly, kleptomaniac girl. The pieces of sandwich got stuck in Grover's curly hair in some areas, all the while he was trying to dodge it.

Sudden anger coursed through her, and she said rather bluntly, "I'm going to kill her."

"Don't. You're already on probation," Grover reminded her, "Besides, I like peanut butter."

That didn't help out her anger at all.

See, Grover was an easy target. He must've been held back several grades, because he had a trace of a wispy beard, and he cried a lot due to stress, and the fact that he got bullied a lot by their peers. He also had a note excusing him from P.E. for the rest of his life, since he had a muscle disease, but Percy swore that he could run just as fast as almost anybody in the school when it was enchilada day at the cafeteria.

Another wad of sandwich flew over, though thankfully it didn't hit Grover, rather, it hit Percy. She wrinkled her nose at the sight of the sandwich, since who eats a peanut butter and ketchup sandwich? Disgusting. She flicked it away, thankful that Nancy wasn't sitting right next to her. That would be absolute torture. And it would probably result in Nancy's death, or at the very least a broken bone. Maybe that was taking it a little bit too far, but she really didn't care.

She glanced out the window again, pale fingers brushing against the glass, coolness rushing through her fingertips, almost like electricity. She then finally slumped in her seat, and stared at the brown back of the seat in front of theirs, the one Nancy was sitting in, so Percy more or less was glaring at the seat as if it had done something wrong. She just wanted to get this field trip over with.

There was no denying the fact that she _**hated**_ field trips to the very core. Something always went wrong on field trips, for some reason. Something bad always happened, and was a common way for her to get expelled. But even if she hated Yancy, she was determined to not get expelled.

The place where they were going to for this field trip was the Metropolitan Museum. She actually liked museums, something about looking at all the ancient artifacts from civilizations centuries and millennia ago was just fascinating. But this time it was rather bittersweet to be visiting there.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, but was just ten minutes, the school bus pulled to a stop and let them out. Percy grabbed her pair of sunglasses from one of the pockets of her jacket, before putting them on and following the class. Her eyes just didn't like the sunlight, to put it rather bluntly.

When they got inside, Percy looked at all the relics, her eyes widening slightly as she looked around. Amazing. One of their chaperone teachers, Mr. Brunner, talked about them, though he kind of skimmed over it slightly, as if he wished to continue on to something else. The kids were talking, not so loud, but loud enough that, since she was the back of the group, had to strain to listen to him.

Mr. Brunner was the Latin teacher for the sixth grade. He always smelled like coffee, and wore a tweed jacket. He was in a wheelchair, not that that really mattered, but he seemed almost ancient. His classes consisted of studying, though in a rather unusual way. He had a bronze sword, which he 'dueled' students with, and he made all pop-quiz answer choices B. There was also sword tip against chalk as students ran up to the blackboard and had to write about a famous Greek or Roman person, who their mother was, and what god or goddess they worshiped.

It was the only class that she could stand, since the rest almost put her to sleep. The key word was almost, she usually could mentally slap herself into concentrating. Usually.

The class then stopped at the back of the museum, in the Greek and Roman section. Mr. Brunner stopped in front of a _**stele**_ for a girl about their age, with a sphinx on top of it, and began talking about it as well. Though, it was kind of hard to hear him, since some of Percy's peers were snickering at the images, particularly nude people, and the rest were talking, especially Nancy, who was doing a little bit of both. But each time Percy tried to tell them to shut up, the other chaperone teacher, Mrs. Dodds, would glare at her.

Mrs. Dodds was the pre-algebra teacher after the first one had had a mental breakdown in the middle of the year, to why Percy didn't really remember. Something to do with the fact that the previous teacher had had enough with the kids, but that was all she could recall. Anyways, Mrs. Dodds wore a black leather jacket, even though she was in her fifties, and probably wouldn't mind driving a Harley through a student's locker. From day one, she had adored Nancy like the redhead was her long lost granddaughter, and that Percy only deserved to shine her shoes. And whenever she got in trouble, the pre-algebra teacher would say, "Now honey," and she that she was getting after-school detention for a month.

One morning after being in detention until midnight, Percy had told Grover that she didn't think that Mrs. Dodds was human. He looked at her oddly, before saying, "You're absolutely right."

Finally, after hearing Nancy snickering about the _**stele**_ for five minutes, Percy had had enough. "Will you shut up?" she said, trying to make her voice deathly calm, since it seemed to be able to get people to be quiet. Usually.

Yet, she had accidentally spoke louder than she had intended to.

The other kids snickered louder, and she felt Mrs. Dodds' glare on her back. Mr. Brunner, however, stopped talking, and turned to look at her, his thousand year old eyes seemingly staring into her soul, and Percy resisted the urge to shiver. "Do you have anything to say, Miss Jackson?" he asked, and she paled considerably.

"No, sir," she replied.

He then pointed to a picture on the _**stele**_. "Can you tell me what this picture is about?"

Percy immediately recognized it, and fought down the urge to smirk. "That's Kronos eating his kids, sir."

"Correct. Can you tell me why he ate his children?"

"Well, Kronos was the King Titan, and was worried about being overthrown, as he had done to his own father before. So, he ate his children, to supposedly keep himself in power. But his wife, Rhea, hid baby Zeus, and Zeus made his father throw up his siblings, and there was a war between the Gods and the Titans, and the Gods won," she explained after a few moments of thinking.

In front of her, Nancy snorted and said, "Like we're going to need this stuff in real life. Like on our job applications 'please explain why Kronos ate his kids'." A few kids snickered even louder than before, so that it was more of them laughing.

"And why, Miss Jackson," Mr. Brunner's voice cut through the laughter, "To paraphrase Miss Bobofit's excellent question, does this matter in real life?"

"Shut up," Nancy said, turning as red as her hair, if not brighter.

Grover seemed to stifle a grin and muttered, "Busted."

Percy thought for a moment, but she came up empty-handed. "I don't know, sir."

The Latin teacher looked slightly disappointed as he said, "Half-credit then, Miss Jackson. Zeus did indeed feed Kronos a mixture of mustard and wine, which made him disgorge his other five children, who, of course, being immortal gods, had been living and growing undigested in the Titan's stomach. The gods defeated their father, slicing him to pieces with his own scythe, and scattered his remains in Tartarus, the darkest pit in the Underworld. On that happy note, it's time for lunch. Mrs. Dodds, will you please lead us back outside?"

The class then started to head outside, the girls clutching their stomachs, and the boys rough-housing as they walked, acting like idiots, as almost all boys did at Yancy. Percy and Grover were both about to leave, when Mr. Brunner said, "Miss Jackson." And somehow, she had an idea of what was coming.

She nodded for Grover to head on out, before taking in a deep breath to calm her nerves, turned around, and said, "Sir?"

Once again, she felt the thousand year old, seemingly having seen everything, brown eyes looking at her, and once again she resisted the urge to shiver. "You must learn to answer my question," M. Brunner told her.

"About the Titans?" she suggested, even though she knew she was wrong.

"About real life, and how your studies apply to it." She didn't say anything, so he continued on. "What you learn from me is vitally important. I expect that you treat it as such. I will only accept the best from you, Percy Jackson."

Percy almost wanted to get angry; he just pushed her so hard. Sure, the games he came up with were fun, but at the end of the day, she had never gotten above a B- in her life. And though some may say that's a good grade, the fact is that Mr. Brunner didn't just expect her to be as good as the other students, he expected her to be _**better**_, even though she had a bad combination of dyslexia and ADHD, and so she usually had to concentrate really hard in order to spell the names correctly.

Mr. Brunner took one last long, sad, look at the _**stele**_ as if he had been at the girl's funeral, before telling her to go outside and eat her lunch.

The class had gathered on the front steps of the museum, so they could watch the foot traffic of Fifth Avenue pass by. Overhead, a storm was brewing, with clouds almost as black as the night itself. Part of her wanted to blame it on global warming, what with all the weather acting strange around New York since Christmas, but something stopped her from doing so. They had had massive snow storms, flooding, and wild fires from lightning strikes. She wouldn't be surprised if this was a hurricane blowing in.

Yet, nobody else seemed to notice.

Some of the boys were pelting pigeons with Lunchables crackers, while Nancy was trying to pickpocket something from an old lady's purse, though the key word was _**try**_, and yet Mrs. Dodds wasn't seeing a thing.

Percy and Grover sat on the edge of the fountain, away from the others, partially because they didn't want to be labeled as the kids from 'that school', though it was mostly because she was such a loner.

"Detention?" Grover asked.

"Nah," she shook her head. "Not from Brunner, though I wish he would lay off me sometimes."

He didn't say anything for a while, though, Percy didn't mind. But when he did finally say something, though, she was just glad it wasn't something too philosophical. "Can I have your apple?"

Percy didn't have much of an appetite, so she let him take it. Her mind drifted as she saw the cars speeding down Fifth Avenue, and thought about how not too far away, her dad's apartment was only a little way's uptown from the museum. She hadn't seen him since Christmas, and call her a Daddy's Girl, but she wanted so badly to hop into a taxi and just go home. But he would just hug her and be glad to see her, but he'd be disappointed in her as well. Salus would send her right back to Yancy, remind her that she had to try harder, even if this was her sixth school in six years and Percy was probably going to be kicked out again.

Mr. Brunner had parked his wheelchair at the base of the handicapped ramp. He ate celery while reading a paperback novel, a red umbrella stuck up from the back of his chair, making it look like a motorized café table.

That was when things went downhill.

Just as Percy was about to unwrap her sandwich, Nancy Bobofit appeared in front of her with her ugly friends, and she guessed that Nancy hadn't succeeded in pickpocketing from tourists—that or she just got too bored—and then suddenly dumped her half-eaten lunch onto Grover's lap.

"Oops," she grinned, her crooked teeth making her orange freckles, which looked like somebody had spray-painted liquid _**Cheetos**_ onto her cheeks, stand out even more.

Percy took in a deep breath and tried to stay cool. The school counselor had told her all of these strategies to calm herself when he saw just what a terrible temper she actually did have. And while taking a deep breath usually did help, she was so mad that her mind just went blank, with the sound of blood and wind rushing in her ears, and a feeling of slight darkness coming over her.

She didn't even remember touching the redhead, but the next thing Percy knew, Nancy was sitting on her butt in the fountain, slightly pale as if she had seen her worst fears, screaming, "Percy pushed me!"

Mrs. Dodds suddenly appeared out of nowhere.

Percy sucked in a breath, but didn't say anything, even as most of the kids were whispering: "Did you see—"

"—the shadows—"

"—like they grabbed and pushed her—"

_**Creepy.**_

Percy didn't know what her peers were talking about, but she did know from the malicious smirk on Mrs. Dodds' face that she was in trouble, and big trouble at that.

The pre-algebra teacher immediately rushed over to the poor kleptomaniac girl and helped her out of the fountain, making sure that she was alright, that she hadn't hit her head, blah, blah, blah—promising her to get her a new shirt in the museum gift shop, more incoherent or stupid talking, before Mrs. Dodds finally turned to look back at Percy again, a triumphant look in her eyes, as if she had been waiting for the twelve year old to screw up all semester. A shiver ran down her spine, yet Percy didn't dare move.

"Now honey," she said in a sickly sweet voice, and Percy had to bite her tongue to keep herself from making a snide or rude comment, something she had a habit of doing on more than one occasion. "Come with me."

"Wait!" Grover exclaimed. "It was me. I pushed Nancy."

Percy blinked in surprise, stunned at the sudden act of courage that her best friend had just showed. He was actually trying to cover for her, even though Mrs. Dodds scared him to death, if not past the grave, even. Take your pick. Yet, as the pre-algebra teacher glared at him, he still showed signs of being afraid of her, his whiskery chin trembling.

"I don't think so, Mr. Underwood," she said simply, though anger wasn't hidden very well under the deadly calmness.

"But—"

"You. Will. Stay. Here." Now the teacher was almost growling, in a slightly not-so-human way.

Grover then turned to look at Percy, his expression lost and desperate, not knowing what to do. But buying a simple t-shirt for kleptomaniac Nancy Bobofit compared to a detention that lasted until midnight? Something about his expression told her that there was something more to this, more to than what meets the eye. "It's okay, man," she told him, before adding in a whisper, "Thanks for trying." And although he looked at her, seemed to calm down a little bit more, it still didn't help matters much.

"Honey," Mrs. Dodds barked. "Now."

Nancy smirked, although it turned into a frown and she flinched back slightly when Percy gave her a deluxe 'I'll kill you later' glare. It was now her turn to smirk, although she bit it back. People always flinched back at her glares, or at least, when she meant them, as if they were the darkest things that they had ever seen in their lives. Weird, but she took it as a perfect way to tell people to basically _**fuck off**_ when they were annoying her. Too bad she couldn't do it on teachers without getting in trouble, since it would save her _**a lot**_ of detentions and arguments.

Yet, when she turned to face Mrs. Dodds, the pre-algebra teacher wasn't there. She was standing at the museum entrance, at the very top of the steps, gesturing impatiently for her to come on, as if it was natural for a student to be so slow to catch up that the teacher could get far away so easily.

Well, there was ADHD. It supposedly happened a lot with Percy, basically when her brain 'falls asleep' or pauses in order to 'catch up' with itself, and next thing she knows, she's missed something, as if a puzzle piece fell out of the universe and left her staring at the place where it had been instead of searching for it. The school counselor told her it was all part of ADHD, that it was normal, her brain misinterpreting things. Personally, Percy thought that that was a bunch of lies.

But even with those thoughts in mind, she followed Mrs. Dodds anyways.

With a last look at Grover, whom was staring at her with widened eyes and he was pale, Percy walked up the stairs, her shoulders stiffening as she went, and black sneakers casting a dreary look on the concrete, if that was even possible. It probably wasn't, but who cared anyways?

Looking back up, she saw that Mrs. Dodds had disappeared again. _**Lovely.**_ She was now inside the building, at the end of the entrance hall. _Okay then, she's going to make me buy a new shirt for Nancy in the gift shop._

But apparently, that wasn't part of the plan.

Percy followed her deeper into the museum, passing the gift shop as she walked by. When she finally caught up to Mrs. Dodds, they were back in the Greek and Roman section, and she noted with slight nervousness that except for them, the whole gallery was empty. But why would she be nervous? She couldn't deny that she was pretty much an introvert, and normally she would actually be glad at the lack of a crowd—yet all she could feel was that nervousness, like a warning to get up and run.

Clearing those thoughts from her head, Percy saw Mrs. Dodds standing in front of a marble _**frieze **_depicting the Greek Gods, her arms crossed, scowling. She was also making the same noise as before, the growling one, except this time it seemed so much more animalistic.

It was weird being alone with a teacher, especially one like Mrs. Dodds. Usually, she was only alone with a teacher when she was getting a 'stern' talking to, or detention; something like that. Sure, she was probably going to get a 'stern' talking to, but the pre-algebra teacher actually made it _**intimidating**_, something her predecessors hadn't been able to do. And with her standing in front of the _**frieze**_, well, it sent another shiver down Percy's spine. _**Twice today.**_ A rare occasion for that to happen.

Even as a kid, since she really didn't consider herself one anymore, it had been an unusual occurrence for her to feel scared or intimidated by somebody, save for Salus, but he never got angry. The only times when she felt like that were when an adult gave off a bad vibe, or when her instincts were screaming in alarm inside her head. And right now—well, it felt like both of those, which was not a nice feeling.

"You've been giving us problems, honey," Mrs. Dodds said, her voice no longer growling or sickly-sweet, just deathly calm.

Percy contemplated what her reply should be for a moment, before deciding to do the safest thing. "Yes ma'am."

She tugged on the cuffs of her leather jacket, as if it was a hobby or she was about to take the jacket off. That didn't soothe Percy's nervousness at all. "Did you really think you would get away with it?" Her voice was no longer deathly calm, it was back to the animalistic growling. The look in her eyes was beyond mad, angry, or insane. It was pure _**evil**_.

But a teacher couldn't harm a student, right?

"I'm trying my best, ma'am."

Thunder shook the building, and Percy looked around at the gallery, hoping for a way to escape. This wasn't right. Something was terribly, very terribly, _**wrong**_. For once, she would openly admit that she was _**scared**_. What was she in trouble for? Did the teachers finally find out about her illegal stash of candy she had been selling out of her dorm, or that she had read the summary for the book Tom Sawyer on the internet instead of actually reading the book, and they were going to take away her grade? Even when looking at just the cover, she had known that the book was going to be boring, and when she had read the summary, she had found that she was correct. Really, the worst they could do on that was make her read the book.

"We are not fools, Percy Jackson," Mrs. Dodds snapped, "It was only a matter of time before we found out. Confess, and you will suffer less pain." After another few moments of silence, she continued on, "Well?"

Percy couldn't hold in the snide comment, "I'm sorry, Mrs. Dodds, but I don't think that detention is the worst thing you can do."

The pre-algebra teacher's eyes widened drastically, before she snarled, "Your time is up."

That was when things got even weirder.

Her eyes began to glow like barbecue coals, like charcoal, and her fingers stretched, turning into talons. Her jacket suddenly melted, turning into a pair of large, leathery wings. She wasn't human, no, Mrs. Dodds looked like a shriveled hag with bat wings, claws, and a mouthful of yellow fangs.

Percy wondered how it was even possible that things could get stranger, and yet they did.

Mr. Brunner rolled his chair into the doorway of the gallery, holding a pen in his hand. Her eyes darted between him and the demon math teacher, and Percy vaguely wondered what had exactly been in her lunch to cause her to hallucinate like this. Yet, a voice in the back of her mind told her this _**wasn't**_ a hallucination or dream, this was real. "What ho, Percy!" he tossed the pen through the air, at the same time Mrs. Dodds lunged at her.

Catching the ballpoint pen, she dodged the talons, but ever so slightly too late. A slight stinging came from her ear, but Percy definitely wasn't focused on that. Because as soon as the pen had hit her palm, it wasn't a pen anymore. It was a beautiful bronze sword, the same sword Mr. Brunner used on tournament days.

Mrs. Dodds tried to slice at her again, a murderous glint in her—_**its?**_—eyes. And even though her knees felt like jelly, even though her hands were shaking so bad that she almost dropped the sword, she swung it anyways, just as the demon math teacher flew at her and snarled, "Die honey!"

The metal blade hit her shoulder, passing through her body like water, or like a shadow.

_**Hiss!**_

__Mrs. Dodds suddenly burst into golden sand, exploding into yellow powder, vaporized on the spot, leaving nothing but an awful smell, the sound of a dying banshee's screech, and a chill in the air. Yet, Percy could still feel those glowing red eyes on her, still watching her.

She fell to her knees, sword clattering on the ground, yet not going back to its pen form. Adrenaline leaving her body, making her feel dizzy, and slightly nauseous. A dull pain was in her head, a headache, but not like the migraines she got every so often. Drawing in a deep breath, though, Percy looked up and realized that she was alone. Mr. Brunner wasn't there, and Mrs. Dodds definitely wasn't either. She was_** alone**_.

Hands still trembling, arms still shaking, Percy realized directly in front of her was a pen cap. The cap to the ballpoint pen that at the moment was a sword. Grabbing the cap and the sword, on instinct she put the cap to the sword's tip. Immediately, the sword shrunk down until it was back in pen form, and she put it in another pocket on her jacket, before pinching herself.

_**Not a dream.**_

__Shaking her head, Percy got off the ground and walked outside to find it raining. Grover was sitting by the fountain, a museum map tented over his head, and Nancy, soaking wet by both the rain and her dip in the fountain, was talking to her group of ugly friends, but stopped when she saw Percy, and said with a sneer on her face, "I hope Mrs. Kerr whipped your butt."

Confused, she asked, "Who?"

Nancy rolled her eyes. "Our teacher. Duh!"

Percy blinked. Even though she knew this wasn't a dream, and she had the pen to prove that the incident in the museum had actually happened only moments before, how come Nancy had talked about a teacher she had never even heard of? Because Mrs. Kerr was definitely not the pre-algebra teacher.

_**"Just go with it."**_

__Nodding to herself, and ignoring Nancy's eye roll, Percy walked over to Mr. Brunner, set on finding answers, even if the sudden insanity voice had asked her to just go with it. Why would she listen to a voice that suddenly popped in her head, anyways? Maybe she really was going insane, but once again, the pen proved everybody else wrong. And though her first choice would be to ask Grover first, then Mr. Brunner, it would probably be better to ask the 'grown-up' in this situation.

Thunder boomed overhead.

Casting a worried look up at the sky, she found Mr. Brunner sitting under his red umbrella, at the end of the ramp, like he had been before. He was reading his book, as if he had never moved. He looked up, looking distracted. "Yes, Ms. Jackson?"

"Sir," Percy said, albeit slightly impatient. "Where's Mrs. Dodds?" _Even though I just vaporized her._

He stared at her blankly. "Who?"

_Damn it._

Percy gritted her teeth. She really shouldn't have been expecting anything less. "The other chaperone, sir. Mrs. Dodds. The pre-algebra teacher." _Ring a bell? Like, really, does it ring a bell? The one you just gave me a _**sword**_ to vaporize with?_

He frowned and sat forward, looking slightly concerned, but his ancient eyes told another story. "Percy, there is no Mrs. Dodds on this trip. As far as I know, there has never been a Mrs. Dodds at Yancy Academy. Are you feeling alright?"

"Just peachy, sir," she smiled coldly. "I just don't like being lied to."

And with that, Percy turned and walked away, clenching her fists as she went.

**A/N: I'm back! Originally, I wanted to call this chapter **_**'Demon Math Teachers' **_**but eh, Field Trips seemed more fitting. Go figure, right?**

**AgitatedDog9288: Thanks! Hope you liked the chapter!**

**Allegra M: It all depends on the soul really, if you look at it that way. Demigod souls are usually powerful, depending on the parent and their mortal parent's 'power'. And though Nyx is above the Ancient Laws, I guess you could say, she's worried about being found out, as she's seen as a threat to almost all of her family. As for the gods watching Percy, you'll just have to wait and see.**

**See ya'll next chapter!**


	3. Chapter 2: Socks of Death

**Disclaimer: Don't own.**

_**~Chapter 2: Socks of Death~**_

Percy let out a sigh as she twirled the pen in her hand.

It honestly wasn't easy to see and hear the whole campus believe that Mrs. Kerr—a perky blonde woman that she had never seen in her life until she got on the bus at the end of the field trip—had been their pre-algebra teacher since Christmas. Yet, for some reason, to the students and teachers that was the only logical answer, and she had _**it all wrong**_. Of course, she knew otherwise, but that didn't mean that it wasn't hard to listen to everybody's explanation. Even Grover had tried to lie to her, but it didn't work—he wasn't a very good liar.

She hadn't gotten in detention with Mr. Brunner for her slightly snide comment at him, though he told her before she had left his class one day that it wouldn't be appreciated next time she did it. Percy nodded, apologized out loud, and then left the room. As soon as she exited, she had grinned. He had told them during that class that he wouldn't be using the bronze sword for tournament days anymore, something about the fact that although it was supposedly dull, the headmaster had suggested to not use it anymore. Her peers had complained, but they soon accepted it while she mentally laughed, struggling to keep a saddened expression on her face. That hadn't been very easy.

The school year was going to come to an end soon. Today was the day before the exams started, and students were in a frenzy with last minute studying or trying to get as much sleep as possible. She didn't do those things, but sat silently, amused, as boys and girls scrambled to get in those and other last-minute to-dos before the exams. One boy had even passed her, muttering to himself that it was the end of the world, and she had been lucky enough to make it to her dorm before she burst into laughter.

But, not everything had been great. When Mr. Nicoll one day had asked why she wasn't trying hard enough, even though she had her highest grade in his class. And then she had just snapped. Percy had called him an old sot, whatever that meant, and the next day the headmaster had informed Salus that Percy wouldn't be welcome back to Yancy for the next school year. _Fine, just fine, _she had told herself.

She was homesick.

Percy desperately wanted to go back to their apartment in Manhattan, even if it meant having to go to public school. She missed the smell of freshly baked blue chocolate chip cookies, which were made quite a lot during the summers, and the severely messy state the kitchen was always in afterwards; blue dye on the floors, flour everywhere, and eggs shells on the counters from either Salus or Percy trying to throw them into the sink and failing, to which the father-daughter pair would laugh. And besides the movie nights when popcorn was popped, somehow it was also blue, it was one of the times when she could truly relax and not feel like everybody was staring at her for some reason or another. It was a place where that fact was that she was guaranteed to fit in.

Still, there were things she would miss at Yancy. The smell of pine trees, Grover, and the good view the window in her dorm showed. But it would be better for her to leave Yancy. No Nancy Bobofit, no campus looking at her like she was psycho, and no teachers giving detentions. Well, the latter one was only for the summer, but that was better than nothing. The only thing she was truly worried about was leaving her best friend at the hands of the bullies, defenseless, but she really couldn't do anything about that now.

So here Percy was, sitting in the refectory, twirling the pen in her hands while sitting alone. Grover had gone to get his lunch, and she hadn't been feeling particularly hungry, so she had told him to go on ahead. She blocked out the chatter of other students, mainly just wishing that the exams could be done and over with and she could leave Yancy, because no matter how much she was worried about Grover, the boarding school sucked. Simple as that, really.

_Maybe I could get out of here early. . . . . Run, maybe? Because who hasn't ever thought of that before? It __**would**__ be extremely easy._

"Is that Mr. Brunner's pen?" said best friend in question asked as he sat down on the opposite side of her, pulling her from her thoughts.

Percy looked up at him, and shrugged. "Maybe it is, maybe it isn't. What would you say if it was, though?"

"Then you should give it back."

She shrugged again, then smirked. She'd actually stolen a few things during the school year, not many, and Grover always insisted that she should return the stolen items, and most of the time she did. This _**pen**_, however, she was going to keep. It was always close by, whether in one of her jacket's pockets, or under her pillow, it was there. "I like it, though," she replied, "Even if it _**is**_ Mr. Brunner's pen, I have no intentions of giving it back."

He frowned. "You really should though, Perce. At least have some morals, here."

Percy grinned. "I'm not a sociopath, Grover. Besides, the pen's special. Very special. And," she added, before secretly joking, "It's a really good writing utensil. Mr. Brunner wouldn't care less about it; I'm sure he has quite a few more of the same type of pen."

Grover looked at her, his expression serious as well as nervous, and said, "Still, it would be good to give it back to him. What are you going to do with a pen anyways? Doodle away with it? Keep it as a souvenir?"

"Yep," Percy responded, popping the 'p', "Something to remember Yancy by. Even if I hate this place, good memories were made here." Then it was her turn to become serious. "I need something to remember Mrs. Dodds."

Her best friend looked even more nervous than before. "I told you, Percy, she doesn't exist. Just as everybody else here has told you, she never existed in the first place. You were just imagining things—Mrs. Kerr's been our pre-algebra teacher since Christmas."

Her eyes narrowed. "Grover, you're a really, _**really**_, bad liar." His ears turned pink at that statement, and he avoided eye contact with her. "I hadn't seen Mrs. Kerr in my life until the end of the field trip. I _**know**_ that Mrs. Dodds existed, I even have proof."

He visibly gulped, his eyes darting between the pen and her face now. "Are you sure you don't need another visit to the school counselor? I mean—seeing demon math teachers all the time is something that they need to know about, especially when you have this 'proof'. Maybe you should visit a real counselor during the summer, Perce. I'm sure your dad wouldn't mind, and he'd surely understand."

Percy let out a sigh, knowing that this conversation was going to go down in flames, and fast. She could already feel her anger bubbling. "Dad wouldn't do that. He'd either believe me or encourage me for my imagination, which if I say so myself, is perfectly fine with me. He's the best dad in the world. Anyways, seeing demon math teachers should probably alert a lot of people that something, is wrong in my head, but I'm perfectly sane, not schizophrenic. All the school counselor says is that I'm 'doing well' for a kid with ADHD. Not particularly encouraging for me to return there again."

The pen continued to twirl in her hand, the bronze, metallic color shining in the dim lighting.

Grover looked at her, with an almost pleading expression on his face. "Just take the pen back to Mr. Brunner. It'd be for the best."

A smirk once again played at her lips, anger now sizzling, more so than it had been since the field trip. Percy leaned forward slightly, and said simply, "No."

"No matter what, you won't take the pen back, you won't see the school counselor, and you won't tell your dad about it?"

"I wouldn't go as far to say the last, but for the other two, yeah."

"And you're sure this isn't all in your head?"

She raised an eyebrow. "What are you trying to say, Grove?"

Grover shook his head, and Percy noticed that he hadn't touched his food yet. Time for the supposed motivational speech, it seemed. He looked at her with a concerned expression, and she knew this wasn't going to be good. "What I'm trying to say is—are you just determined to be impossible, Percy? The pen does rightfully belong to Mr. Brunner, and you really should talk about this hallucination with Mr. Parker, I'm sure he'd be willing to listen to you; he's not as bad as you're making him seem, and you know that. And since when were you concerned about what others think?"

Her eyes narrowed, and she suddenly sat back in her seat. Damn. Now he'd done it. Now came the tsunami of the things that she had been keeping to herself. "Impossible?" she hissed, and the pen stopped twirling, her other hand clenching into a fist. "I'm _**not**_ impossible, Grover, I just know what is actually going on. I know you're lying, I know that Mrs. Dodds existed—hell, maybe she still does—and that she tried to kill me, to which I destroyed her. I just can't ignore the fact that you _**know**_ something, and you're not telling me! The teachers and students here think I'm insane, including you now? Knowing what is actually going on and what others are saying is a big difference, Grover. I thought it wouldn't come down to an effing pen. As for people, I don't, but being called crazy when you aren't hurts."

She hated—no, _**loathed**_—being called impossible. It wasn't just that she naturally hated it, but countless teachers and school counselors had told her as such. That even if she had ADHD and dyslexia, Percy wasn't willing to make new friends, she wasn't willing to mingle with her peers, and she had a terrifying temper. And after having people report that all the time to her father, students teasing her about the fact, each time she was called that word by anybody, save for her dad, was enough for Percy to go from being happy and teasing lightly to her anger boiling over, which it was now. What made her fury increase even more that it wasn't Nancy Bobofit or some other person saying this, it was _**Grover**_.

Standing up, Percy pushed her chair back to where it had been before, the hand that had been clenched now clenching and opening constantly. The _**pen**_ was held firmly in the other so much that it would've looked like her hand had turned pale, if she hadn't been already. "Perce, I didn't mean it," Grover began, but one of her glares had him flinch and look away. He was probably going to say that he actually didn't think that she was insane, that she was acting irrationally about the whole thing, but she didn't want to hear it. Part of her felt guilty about glaring at him and unloading that rant, but her anger made that part mostly hidden.

Percy walked out of the refectory, feeling some stares on her, before the doors closed. She took in deep breaths, trying to count from ten to one, trying to get rid of her anger, but it didn't work. Something about what Grover had been trying to say had struck a chord, and her fury had been unleashed. Salus always said that she had her mother's temper, fiery and enough to give any man a migraine, and that her mother had slapped him for saying the latter when she had still been pregnant with Percy. It had been one of the many stories that Salus had of her mother, one of the ones she cherished the most, and yet it still wasn't enough.

Shaking her head, she turned a corner, taking in a breath as sunlight hit her eyes, but the pain was over soon enough. Where was she going, exactly? Wandering around the school like a maniac wouldn't do much for her, besides lessen her anger, and possibly even get a detention. _**Fun**_. But even now, after a few minutes of walking, her boiling fury was slowly receding. The guilt of yelling at Grover, though, was taking her rage's place, and it was almost overwhelming. Percy let out a sigh, and stopped walking.

What could she do? That question had so many answers to it, with a lot of categories, but she focused on one in particular.

But the thing that ticked her off the most was that she didn't know what to do at the moment. Not exactly, anyways. Could she run? Hide? Go back and ask for forgiveness, or go back and get her anger boiling over again? God. Since when did she develop the 'life is so confusing' teenage brain?

Running wasn't something that she liked to do—in fact, she hated it. She didn't like to run from her problems, she usually liked to face them head on. Face what was causing the troubles and stop it. That pretty much went the same for hiding as well. Asking for forgiveness? Well, she could do that, but there were no guarantees that something bad would happen, and that her rage would be unleashed again. Plus, with asking for forgiveness, it was one of the weak things about her—because no matter how hard she tried, the words could never tumble out of her mouth the way she wanted them to. Those were her choices, and Percy hated them all.

Yet, with the running option, she had considered it earlier. It was a fast and easy solution, one that would be the least likely to backfire on her. The easy way out. And it could be so simple—pack her things, put on her sunglasses, and just get out of Yancy before lunch ended. Simple.

Looking down, she saw the pen was still in her hand. She hadn't even realized that her hand was hurting because of the adrenaline. Nobody realized that she was actually holding a sword in disguise in her hand. Almost everybody on campus didn't remember Mrs. Dodds, and if they did, they weren't saying anything about it. Grover was lying directly to her face, Mr. Brunner had been ignoring her, and the multiple trips to the school counselor was absolute torture.

Percy made her choice.

Sucking in a deep breath, she turned around, and took off sprinting down the halls, running as fast as she could. There were no teachers walking through the hallway, as they were all on lunch break and she knew how they were about that. Freedom from mental-case students, if even only for an hour, was cherished. They wouldn't be patrolling, they wouldn't be looking around for the troublesome students. Perfect.

As she ran, Percy remembered a certain conversation she had heard the other girls talking about. One of them had been practically been gushing at the fact that when she had gone to a public school across the country, there had been a weird student there. The student had been usually either quiet or a chatterbox, ignoring all of his peers, and used whatever he could to keep himself entertained. The boy had had no family, nobody to turn to, though his foster parents seemed to be nice people. Finally, though, one day he just hadn't turned up at school, or the days to follow. The girl remarked at how many, including her, laughed when the teachers announced that the boy had run away from his foster home, before being caught by social services after just a few days. Percy didn't think it was funny at all. If anything, a boy running away should receive help for his problems, no matter if he was 'weird' or not.

Still, pulling that kind of move, although not something she had ever done, would mean freedom from the school. No more Nancy Bobofit to tease her, no exams, and though Salus would be incredibly disappointed with her, she would tell him what happened. Nobody had ever believed her about this stuff before. Not in the third grade when she was on the swings during recess when she had seen a woman with a dress made of shadows and blood red lips smirking at her, and not when she was in the first grade and a man with just one eye, in the center of his forehead, had been staring at her. Nobody believed her, save for her dad.

Finally, Percy rushed through the hallway of the girls dorms', before reaching her own. Another girl shared with her, but of course her roommate would be in the refectory, chatting with her friends. Looking at the red digits on the girl's alarm clock, she realized she only had about ten minutes until lunch ended. Most likely six minutes to pack and four minutes to get out of Yancy and run as fast as she could. Great.

Quickly, she grabbed her duffel bag that was under her bed, as suitcases she thought were useless, unzipped it, and started to run around her side of the room and throw things into it. Her roommate had insisted on that; that Percy keep all of her 'gothic' and 'emo' things on her side, and that the girl would keep her things on the other. Really, Percy knew what those two slang-ish terms meant, and she definitely wasn't depressed, sad, and she didn't wear cosmetics. But she had still complied, keeping her rather harsh words towards her roommate too herself.

Yes, Percy realized that this plan was rather rash and not well thought-out, and that she had no idea as to how she would get to Manhattan, but she didn't care. Rash or not, it was a plan. And to be honest, exams really didn't matter. They were just grades, and the fact was, they didn't matter; what did was if you were actually learning the things that the teachers, professors, and anybody else was trying to teach you. All she had really needed was the motivation to leave Yancy by her own means, and now that she had it, Percy was going to take the opportunity. Besides, part of her put in the comment that she just didn't like to go with the flow.

She told that part to shut up and keep its opinions to itself.

Looking up at her clock, it said that she had five minutes left. Zipping up the duffel bag, she then took out her sunglasses and put them on, before slinging the bag over her shoulder. Reaching the door, she took one last look at the room that she had lived in for the past few-ish months, though she had went back home for Christmas Break. She hadn't been able to go during the Spring Break that boarding schools offered, as Salus had spent that week meeting some fans of his story at conventions, and doing book signings. He had offered to stay, but Percy had replied that she would be fine staying at Yancy.

Gently and silently closing the door behind her, she then took off running down the halls once again. Passing the familiar classrooms, the familiar and very annoying 'motivational' posters and pictures, and boards filled with papers that advertised school clubs and sports. The posters and pictures were in no way encouraging, instead, they were dull and lifeless, acting as broken records. The papers weakly told students that they were welcome to come to a club or try out a sport, even though they would never compete against other schools or anything of the like. It was pretty sad.

She passed the refectory, passed quite a few more classrooms, before she made it to the front doors. Adrenaline pumping through her, Percy grabbed the handle and swung open the door, the smell of fresh air and pine trees increasing. She walked outside and down the steps, and just as the door closed, the bell rang, signifying the end of lunch. With a laugh, she took one last look at Yancy, and ran as fast as she could.

Freedom was one of the best things in life, in her opinion.

* * *

><p>She walked about five miles—and that was no easy feat, let her tell you—until Percy had found the <em><strong>Greyhound<strong>_ Station, buses parked neatly as ever, with people boarding one of them. The hot, humid, summer air, even though it was still early in the season; had ticked her off quite a bit, especially with the fact that she was wearing a _**jacket**_, of all things, but miraculously she hadn't died of heat stroke. Adrenaline just made it seem all the faster, when in fact, it had taken her forty-five minutes just to get to the station.

But nevertheless, she had walked into the building, and saw that there was a bus going to another station, and she would have to call a taxi in order to get home, but it was close. That was what mattered, even if getting that fact had almost made her go insane. When it was her turn to get a ticket, the man had looked at her oddly, most likely wondering why a twelve year old girl would be ordering a ticket when school was still in session, and when she clearly had no guardian. Yet with a simple shake of his head, she handed over the money Salus had mailed her, and he gave her the ticket. _**Success.**_

Percy ignored the odd looks that she got while she sat, waiting. She knew what they were most likely thinking, and she plain out just didn't care. Like she always had. And so she sat, constantly checking the time on the clock on the wall constantly, as although they would announce it, she still wanted to make sure she didn't miss the bus. It wouldn't do any good to get stranded here.

Letting her mind wander, she vaguely approached the topics on how Grover would survive the next year and what he and everybody else was currently doing. Had they even noticed her disappearance yet? Probably. She didn't know if they were searching for her or not, but no teachers or police officers had shown up here, looking for her. Maybe they didn't even care, just like she didn't. But as for Grover, she hoped that he could survive the next year without her. Once again, she was reminded of the fact that she would be leaving him defenseless in a school full of delinquents and bullies. But like she had said before, she couldn't do anything about it now.

Opening her eyes, which she didn't remember closing, Percy once again looked at the clock, and realized that she better be going. Grabbing the duffel bag and slinging it over her shoulder again, it took only a few minutes for her to get on the bus—getting the ticket checked and asked if she had a guardian _**once**_. To which she replied that she was going home, and the woman nodded and let her pass.

The bus wasn't very crowded, really, she sat by herself as the seat next to hers hadn't gotten a passenger. Quite a few people were also sitting alone, but most were chatting, and she assumed that the people who had paired up were going someplace together after they arrived at the station. But she didn't pay them any attention, instead, Percy looked out the window, glad when soon enough the countryside started to rush by. It confirmed her freedom. Letting out a sigh in relief, she sagged into the seat partially.

Once again, she didn't remember closing her eyes—or falling asleep—but she was awoken from an odd dream when there was a huge grinding noise under her feet, and a smell of rotten eggs was not welcomed. She even saw black smoke coming from the dashboard, to which the driver cursed and steered the Greyhound over to a side of the highway. Percy noted that they were still in the countryside; lush green pine trees, the smell of fresh air, and the lack of cars proved that fact. Overall, it wasn't a place where a bus would normally break down.

After a few minutes of messing in the engine room, the driver announced that they would all have to get off. The bus was getting rather hot, so she complied happily, stepping off the bus and vaguely listening to the other passengers murmur about if he was going to be able to fix the Greyhound or not, tourism, and other things. A few of them were even taking pictures of the scenery, while Percy thanked her lucky stars that she still had her sunglasses on.

But, as she looked around, the thing that sparked her curiosity was across four empty lanes of smooth blackness, still not a car in sight—which was rather creepy—was a fruit stand. It was sitting on fresh, cleanly cut, green grass, not like their side which was littered with garbage from the cars that passed. It was old-fashioned, with apples, cider in ice boxes, walnuts, pomegranates and blood red cherries—two of her favorite fruits—pears, and quite a few more. There were no customers, which Percy found to be extremely odd, but under the shade of a maple tree were three women in their early thirties in rocking chairs.

The women themselves had dark brown hair in loose curls, flowing down their backs, high cheekbones, naturally rosy cheeks, and soul-piercing silver eyes. Most would say that they were rather beautiful, but that wasn't what Percy was focused on. Because while they were sitting in rocking chairs, they were also knitting the largest pair of socks that she had ever seen.

They were larger than sweaters, but she knew that they were socks—it was obvious. Both of the sisters on the right and left were knitting, while the one in the middle held a basket of the same storm-grey yarn. It was quite amazing that they hadn't given up on their project yet, but nevertheless, they were knitting those gigantic socks. But there was another odd thing about them.

The three sisters, wearing long sleeved shirts and jeans even though it was extremely hot, were looking straight at Percy.

Their soul-piercing silver eyes were staring into her soul, and those eyes seemed to have seen everything, just like Mr. Brunner's, but appeared to be so much older, more ancient. Like they had seen men in wars die, women sacrifice themselves for their children, and children screaming as everything they knew was torn from them.

The middle sister met her eyes, locking onto them, and raised an eyebrow and smirked, as if to say, "You're absolutely right." She then took out a pair of scissors—no, not scissors, _**shears**_. Long-bladed, gold and silver, shears. Her smirk then turned into a grin, now like she was daring Percy to try and stop her, but the girl was frozen in place, staring at the trio. She put the yarn between the shears, and locked onto Percy's gaze once again.

_**SNIP!**_

A shiver went down her spine as the shears cut the thread, the yarn being separated into two. Her sisters then balled up the storm grey socks, and they stared at her as well, like they were expecting her to do something about it.

Suddenly, somebody was jerking her shoulder. "Hey, kid, you alright?" one of the passengers asked.

Percy nodded. "I'm fine."

Taking one last glance at the three women, Percy then boarded the bus and went back to her seat. She felt slightly sick and light-headed, for no reason at all. Why? However, her questions were pulled out of her mind when the driver got a piece of smoking and blackened metal from the engine room at the rear of the bus. The Greyhound shuddered, before the engine roared back to life, to which the passengers, now all boarded, cheered.

"Damn right!" the driver laughed and grinned, hitting his hat on the bus. "Everybody on board? Good."

Still feeling feverish, Percy turned to look back out of the window. Countryside was once again rushing past, and there were now a few cars on the four-lane road. Suddenly, she was aware of pain coming from her right hand. Looking down, she saw that the pen was still there, gleaming in the sunlight, bronze as ever. And she was also reminded of the fact that it wasn't a pen.

A smile graced her features, and with a grin, Percy turned to look back outside, feelings of fever and sickness suddenly gone.

**A/N: Done with the chapter! Hooray! Still a shorter chapter than I wanted it to be, but I couldn't think of anything else to add, sadly. But hey, it's a chapter!**

**As for Percy's anger, I'm basing it off of mine—except mine is worse. Far worse. I would've been still steaming in the station (please note that I've never been in a Greyhound station or on one, and I don't know what it's like, I was guessing). And as for the three most hated/cruelest goddesses in the bunch of all of them—don't you think as their half-sister, Percy would see them differently than canon? I do!**

**I tried to find a point for Percy to get angry at—Grover 'siding' with everybody else seemed like a good one. Sorry if you guys think it wasn't. Also, sorry if you think that the chapter was a bit rushed.**

**LadyFlonne714: Glad to hear. Yeah, I do like canon Percy being a son of Poseidon and all, though I don't like Percabeth very much—having Percy being a girl and daughter of a different god/goddess is quite a nice perspective on how the story would've turned out.**

**Dogbiscuit1967: Thanks! I would say more, believe me, but I'm not sure how to say it other than that.**

**See ya'll next chapter!**


	4. Chapter 3: A Fight on the Sand

**Disclaimer: I don't own, okay?**

_**~Chapter 3: A Fight on the Sand~**_

When the Greyhound pulled into the station, Percy was quick to get off it, out of the station, and call a cab. She didn't want to stay too long, as although nobody could most likely find her at this point, it didn't mean that people wouldn't start asking questions as to where her guardian was. The taxi driver hadn't asked her any questions, thankfully. He had driven her to the apartment building in Manhattan, and accepted the money when she gave it. He drove away, and left her in front of the building.

She smiled briefly, before walking up the steps, both leading up to the front door and going up to the apartment, which was on the fourth floor. After four-and-a-quarter flights of stairs, Percy finally reached the door to her home. Another brief smile crossed her face, and she took her key from another of her jacket's pockets and unlocked the door.

The apartment wasn't very big. It had a slightly-smaller-than-usual kitchen, a living room, two bathrooms, a laundry 'room' at the end of the apartment's hallway, and two bedrooms. Nothing special. And although it was small, it was home just the same. The light brown shaggy carpet, the pale blue walls, and the smell of new books and aroma of freshly baked cookies was like a soothing embrace home. With a sigh of relief, she closed the door behind her and took off her sunglasses, knowing that Salus wasn't home, but that wasn't the reason why she was happy of course. Putting the sunglasses on the coffee table, Percy collapsed onto the couch, duffel bag falling to the floor as she did.

Home sweet home. The place where she had wished she secretly had been for most of her time at Yancy.

She did it. She ran.

Shaking her head, Percy got up and stretched. Salus would be home soon, most likely demanding questions as to why she was home before exam week even started, his anger evidently being shown, until he finally took in a deep breath and hugged her tightly, saying that he was glad that she was home. It always amused her; her father could never stay angry for long.

In her opinion, Salus was one of the kindest people in the world, which also proved her theory that the kindest people had the rottenest luck. His parents had died in a plane crash when he had been little, and he had had to live with his uncle, who had never been kind to him. In the middle of his high school career, his uncle had gotten cancer, causing Salus to drop out in order to take care of him. When he died, her father had been left with nothing. No money, no family, and no high school diploma allowing him to get into college.

The only break he ever got was when he met Percy's mother.

They had met in the middle of the night at Montauk, and her mother had been intimidated at first, but then again, her mother hadn't had an easy life either, from what Percy could gather. He and her mother had chatted for what seemed like hours, Salus needing inspiration for his writing, and her mother needed some human interaction, and they gave each other what they needed the most; love, inspiration, and comfort. It only escalated from there.

Her mother had moved in with him for almost a year, after August. Salus always said that those were some of the best months of his life. She'd been kind, sarcastic, witty, and a little bit of a prankster, though her temper could be quite terrifying at times. When she had found out that she was pregnant with Percy, it was nine months on a rollercoaster. But nevertheless, they stuck side by side, until Percy had been born, that is.

Her father had always said that her mother had never wanted to leave, she just had to. Eventually, she had to leave; her mother had cried into Salus' shoulder, packed her bags, and told them both goodbye. She promised she wouldn't be gone long, that she wanted to come back soon, but it would most likely be a while. And with that, she had left for her trip up to the Yukon, before disappearing.

Not dead, Salus always reassured her. Just missing.

There were no pictures of her mother in the apartment, hardly no evidence of her, save for the quilt that Percy used. Her mother had sewn it while she was pregnant, needing something to do other than 'take it easy'. She'd crocheted, written stories, baked, and read books.

But when she left, it hadn't been a walk in the park for Salus. Percy knew that she wasn't an easy kid. He had had to balance her, getting his diploma, and college. His writing career hadn't been easy, either. Once he had gotten his story published—the same story that her mother had inspired—he had had to go on book signings and the like, and when he made it into a series, the book signings and trips across the county and world continued. Yet, he always had plenty of time for Percy, and had always made remarks when she was younger about how she had inherited her mother's black and unruly hair. She'd always liked to hear stories about her mother, what she looked like, what her favorite food was, and her father tried to answer her without causing himself too much pain from the memories. And that was fine.

Making her way to her room, she looked in on it. It had the same carpet and walls as the living room did, although that was really where the similarities end. A bed was pushed up against the wall, the dresser right next to the door, and the window could be opened up to a fire escape. Sitting down on the bed, the stinging from her ear had returned. Wincing, she brought a hand up to it, remembering the fact that Mrs. Dodds had gotten her just before the math teacher had exploded into golden dust. Later, she had found that it wasn't a major cut, just a light cut, but it still hurt.

Speaking of Mrs. Dodds, a chill went down Percy's spine, again. She could almost hear the demon making its way up the steps, towards the apartment, talons ready to shred her and red eyes searching around. . . .

The door to the apartment opened, and a sigh could be heard. That is, until the person most likely saw the sunglasses and duffel bag.

"Percy?"

Her father's voice brought a comforting touch, and she replied a faint, whisper-like, "In here."

Nevertheless, Salus heard her, and he walked to her doorway, and she looked up. Recently, he had gotten a part-time job at a candy store, stating that it would provide something 'extra', so he was wearing the red-white-and-blue uniform for it. His brown hair had two grey streaks in it, and his green eyes were looking at her. He raised an eyebrow. "Would you like to tell me why you're here?"

Percy looked back down at her lap, taking her hand off her ear as she did. "Yancy wasn't providing enough," she replied.

But of course, her father noticed something, and he walked over and sat down on the floor, examining her hand, the fingertips having red on them. "Is that blood?" he asked carefully, all traces of short anger gone.

"Yeah."

"Where are you bleeding at?" She pulled her hair back with her other hand, and he looked at her ear. "When did you get this?"

"At the field trip."

Salus suddenly looked alarmed. "Percy, that was about two weeks ago. You shouldn't still bleeding from this cut. And I know that you haven't been picking at it."

Percy shrugged, still looking at her lap. "Did something happen?"

She nodded, but sensing her unwillingness to talk about, her father went silent. Looking up at him, there was a thoughtful look on his face. "What?" she asked.

He blinked, before smiling. "How about we go to Montauk? Three nights, the same cabin?"

It was her turn to blink. "Really? When?"

"A phone call to make, and a change of clothes. Maybe once we get there, you can tell me what's going on?"

She smiled. "Maybe."

* * *

><p>An hour later, they were ready to go—backs packed, food in a cooler, everything they would need.<p>

Their rental cabin was on the south shore, and way out at the tip of Long Island. Percy liked to call it a little 'pastel box' with faded curtains, half sunken into the pale sand dunes. There was always sand in the sheets, spiders in the cabinets, and most of the time the sea was too cold to swim in. But that didn't matter, she loved the place anyways.

They'd been going there since she had been a baby, and Salus had been going even longer. He never exactly said, but he had been going before he had met her mother. The beach was special to him, to put it bluntly.

Percy attacked blue sour strings while she told him about her last days at Yancy. She'd made a new friend, and had done pretty well in Latin, even though she hadn't taken the exam. And honestly, the fights hadn't been as bad as other years, or as how the headmaster had put them. She couldn't kid herself into thinking otherwise—she had liked Yancy. It just wasn't for her. She had tried to put a good spin on the year, and had told Salus how she wasn't that upset about been expelled, even if she hadn't stuck around to actually leave the school when she was supposed to. After all, she had lasted almost a whole year this time. Even now, Nancy Bobofit didn't seem as bad.

She wanted to tell him about the fruit stand women and Mrs. Dodds, but a feeling in her gut told Percy not to. Something about the feeling made her think that if she did tell, then it would end their trip, and they hadn't even started it yet. Besides, he hadn't even sent her back to Yancy, like she thought he might've.

As they got closer to Montauk, Salus almost seemed to grow younger. Years of worry, past depression, work, and loss disappearing from his face. A small smile was there, and she knew that it was a mixture of hearing about her year and remembering old memories. His eyes, while usually being sea green, turned sea blue.

They got there at sunset, light pinks, purples, and golds playing across the sky, making the beach seem all the more beautiful. When they got there, they opened up the cabinets, rang the sheets out, and swept the floor— the usual cleaning routine. When that was done, they walked across the beach, fed blue corn chips to seagulls, munched on blue jelly beans, blue saltwater taffy, and all the other 'free samples' that her father always seemed to have with him. She knew it was another reminder of her mother.

See, back when they were together, her mother had accidentally made a baking mistake, as blue food coloring had poured all into the cake mix. Deciding that it would just have to do, as she certainly wasn't going to make another batch, she had baked the cake and colored the white icing blue, carefully chose all the blue sprinkles out of the rainbow sprinkles and put them on the cake. When Salus came home, they had had the blue cake as their dinner, and he had declared that they should always have something similar to that; it should be something that was tradition. Ever since, her mother had made blueberry smoothies, made blue pancakes, put blue-corn tortilla chips and blue candy on the weekly grocery list. When she had gone missing, Salus hadn't stopped it, introducing Percy to one of the things he and her mother had bonded over.

When it had gotten dark, they had made a fire, roasting hot dogs and blue marshmallows. Salus told her about stories when he was a kid, before his parents had died in the plane crash. About the stories and books that he wanted to publish one day, when he was finished with his current series. Eventually, Percy had finally gotten the nerve to ask what was always on her mind when they came to Montauk—her mother.

Her father's eyes went misty, even though he wasn't a person to cry. She knew that he would tell her the same things he always did, not that she ever dreaded or got tired hearing about them.

"She was one of the kindest people I have ever known," he said, with a ghost of a smile at his lips. "We met in the middle of the night, when she was running from her past. She hadn't had an easy life. Beautiful, tall, gentle, and perfectly unique. You have her messy black hair, you know, though I suspect you get some of that messiness from me as well. She had indigo eyes, and always wore black. And if she couldn't, she wore blue or purple." He fished a few jelly beans out from the candy bag. "I wish she could see you now, Percy. She'd be so proud of you."

Percy wondered how he could say that. Sure, she had good grades, but she was also dyslexic, hyperactive, a troublemaker, had gotten kicked out of five schools and had ran away from the one she had been, until today, attending.

"How old was I?" she asked. "I mean. . . . When she left?"

Salus stared into the flames, the light casting an odd look in his eyes. "She left a few days after we brought you home from the hospital. . . . So you would've been a week old at the time."

Percy took in that information. For some reason, even when she knew most likely it had been the opposite, she had always thought that her mother had at least been there for a few months. Her father had never said it outright, though, but she had still assumed it to be true. She remembered a warm smile, but to be told that her mother had only been there for a week into her daughter's life. . . .

She wanted to be furious with her mother, resent her for the fact that she had decided to go up to the Yukon; that she had left Salus and Percy, for not having the guts to marry Salus, but she couldn't. For some reason. Her mother had left them, without any form of contact, yet when she had fueled up enough of those emotions to be angry at her mother, they were all swept away from her system.

"Are you going to send me away again?" Percy said after a few minutes of silence. "To another boarding school?"

Her father pulled a marshmallow from the fire. "I don't know, kiddo." Even though he was trying to hide it, his voice was heavy. "I think—I think we'll have to find something."

"Like what?"

Salus took in a deep breath. "I thought that Yancy Academy would be far away. Far away enough to keep you safe."

"Safe from what, Dad?"

They met eyes, and Percy was suddenly reminded of all the bad and even slightly scary things that had happened over the years of her education, some of which she had tried so hard to forget. She remembered a certain time during the second grade, where her class had gone on a field trip to a zoo. They had gone into the nocturnal creatures building, and immediately, all the animals had suddenly awoken, if they had been asleep, and had set their eyes on her. It had been intimidating, though the bats had seemed to be the friendliest. Before that was a really early memory; she had been in preschool at the time and one of the teachers had accidentally put her in a crib with a snake that had slithered its way into it. When her dad had come to pick her up, he shouted explicit words and had found Percy playing with a scaly rope that she had somehow been able to strangle to death.

All of the schools that she had ever attended, something creepy had happened and she was forced to move. Percy was once again reminded of the fact that she should tell Salus about the women at the fruit stand, about Mrs. Dodds, the pen that was still in one of her jacket's pockets, but the words just wouldn't come from her mouth.

"I've tried my best to keep you safe on my own," her father finally said. "They told me that it was a mistake. And I know, I've been extremely selfish, but I've only wanted the best for you, Percy. But there's only one other option, the place that your mother told me to send you to once you got old enough. But, I just can't. . . . I just can't do it."

"Mom wanted to send me to a special school?"

Salus shook his head. "Not a school. A summer camp."

Her mind suddenly went spinning. How come her mother wanted her to go to a _**summer camp**_, of all things? Her mother, who hadn't even stuck around long enough to see Percy be a month old. And if it was so important, how come her father had never said anything about it, or mentioned it?

Seeing the look in her eyes, he sighed, "I'm sorry, Luna." He used her middle name. "But I can't talk about it. I just—I just can't talk about it. I couldn't send you to that place. Even then, you could be unsafe, and it would also mean saying goodbye to you for good."

"For good? Daddy, it's only a summer camp. . . ." but Percy trailed off, seeing the look in her father's eyes just as he turned back to look at the fire. She didn't want to push him, so she kept quiet.

* * *

><p><em>She was standing on a beach.<em>

_ The beach at Montauk, to be exact. It was storming on the beach, and waves with terrifying heights were lapping at the shore. Winds at great speeds made her hair blow in one direction, and across her face. But even in this kind of weather, two beautiful animals, a white horse and a golden eagle, were on the beach, and they were trying to kill each other at the edge of the surf._

_ The eagle came down, slashing a cut on the horse's muzzle with huge talons. The horse whinnied, rearing up and kicking at the eagle's wings. As they fought, the winds increased in speed and the waves became higher. Percy found it amazing that she was still standing, and not flying in the air or knocked to the ground. Speaking of which, the ground rumbled, and a monstrous voice cackled somewhere beneath the sand and earth, encouraging the animals to fight harder._

_ Out of the corner of her eyes, she could see indigo eyes looking at the animals, eyes wide with shock and looking like they wanted to break the fight apart, but couldn't._

_ Percy ran towards them, knowing that she had to stop them from killing each other, but time seemed to stop around her as she ran in slow motion. She realized with a jolt that she would be too late. Turning her head to look at her left, where the indigo eyes had been, she found herself looking at a bat. "Help me!" she cried out towards the third animal. "Help me stop them! Please!"_

_ But the bat didn't move, looking at her with its midnight blue eyes. She had no time to register the fact that they looked similar to the indigo ones from before._

_ Turning her head back, she looked just in time to see the eagle swoop down, aiming its deadly claws for the horse's widened eyes. Suddenly, she screamed out, "NO! STOP FIGHTING!"_

Percy woke with a start.

Outside, it really was storming. Rain pelted the ground violently, waves twenty-feet high crashed against the shore, and winds shook the house. It was one of those storms when people were warned to go to the basements of their houses or apartment buildings; one of those storms that could rip houses apart and uproot trees from the roots deeply in the earth. Lightning was making false daylight on the beach, and there was no horse or eagle in sight.

With the next thunderclap, Salus suddenly sat up, sea blue eyes widened with shock as he said, "Hurricane."

The idea was crazy. Absurd. Long Island never had seen hurricanes at the very beginning of summer, and yet the ocean had seemed to forgotten that important fact.

Over the roar of the wind, Percy could hear something bellowing, sounding angry, tortured, and it made her hair stand on end. Then, there was a much clearer noise, like booms stampeding on the sand, and a desperate sound—somebody yelling as loud as they could over everything that was going on outside, and pounding on the door. She vaguely wondered who would even be up at this time of night, well, she had been before; but more like who would even be trying to walk outside in this kind of weather.

Salus sprang out of his bed, wearing his night shirt and pants, unlocking the door before throwing it open with forces that she had never seen before.

And much to her surprise, framed in the doorway, stood Grover. . . . But not quite Grover.

"Searching all day and night," he gasped in between deep breaths. "Just what in the name of—just what were you thinking? Running off like that!"

Her father stood there, looking at Percy with a shocked expression. Not because of the weather going on outside, or Grover, but because why her best friend had come in the first place. "Percy," he shouted over the wind. "What happened at school? What didn't you tell me?"

But Percy was frozen, looking at Grover with widened eyes. For once, she couldn't comprehend what she was seeing.

_I'm going insane. That's it, it's final. I'm going insane. Because there is no way in the name of hell is he actually. . . ._

"_O Zeu kai alloi theoi!_" he yelled. "It's right behind me! Didn't you tell him? Why didn't you tell him?"

_No, no, no . . . ._

Percy, to be perfectly clear, was too shocked to register the fact that her best friend had just cursed in Ancient Greek, or the fact that he had understood him say, "_**Oh Zeus and the other gods!**_" No, what made up the major thoughts in her mind at the moment was wondering just how Grover got here by himself in the freaking middle of the night. Another major fact was that he didn't have his pants on, which would've made her look away before running for the hills. But where his legs should be. . . . Where his legs should be. . . .

Salus looked at her, his expression stern and determined. "_**Percy.**_ Tell me _**now**_!"

She muttered something under her breath about the three ladies at the fruit stand, the bronze sword, and Mrs. Dodds, but he heard her, and stared at her in shock, his face deathly pale in the flashes of lightning. He moved quickly, grabbing the tote bag containing a notepad, pencils, Sharpies, his wallet, and everything else he needed out in public. He also grabbed Percy's jacket, the pen still in it, tossed it to her, and she quickly put it on. He then said, "Both of you, get to the car. Now. _**Go!**_"

Grover ran for the car, and she followed him. But he wasn't running, not exactly. She could've mistaken it for shaggy carpet, but he was trotting, shaking his shaggy hindquarters as he went. Suddenly, his story about a muscular disorder made perfect sense. She understood how he could run so fast and still limp when he walked—and she understood _**what**_ he exactly he was, but it made no sense. That was all a _**myth**_. Impossible. Proved to be wrong.

And yet, here her friend was proving science wrong; because instead of feet, he instead had cloven _**hooves**_.

**A/N: Woo! Another chapter done! And more shall come! Sorry 'bout the late update; for two weeks I wasn't allowed a computer, and then for another week I was on-and-off sick with migraines. When I finally got around to thinking about posting this, I then forgot. Like I said, sorry! Really trying to not get any late updates, but things in my life tend to get weird and I wind up in a bunch of messes.**

**Anyways, I tried my best with this chapter. I'm not sure if it turned out how I wanted it to be or not, but it turned out at the very least, pretty okay. I'm excited for the next chapters. **_**SO**_** excited! If you haven't figured it out yet, then you shall see why exactly. Action for the next chapter, of course!**

**Another thing on my list of things to ramble about, is the fact that Salus seemed pretty calm when he saw Percy, when she was supposed to be at school. He was **_**trying**_** to be angry at her, but seeing his baby girl hurt broke that, as well as the fact that he knew something was up if she suddenly came home, for seemingly no reason at all. There's something more too then what meets the eye with that.**

**AgitatedDog9288: Thanks! Hope you liked the chapter!**

**See ya'll next chapter!**


	5. Chapter 4: Lessons in Bull Fighting

**Disclaimer: Don't own, guys!**

_**~Chapter 4: Lessons in Bull Fighting~**_

The car tore through the night, along the dark country roads, and Percy was uneasy when she realized that she could still see everything almost perfectly fine, even with the darkness. Wind slammed against the car, doing its best to make the car sway. Rain lashed out at the windshield, and to be perfectly honest, she didn't know how Salus could see anything, and yet he kept his foot on the gas.

Every time there was a flash of lightning, she would take a glance at Grover next to her in the back seat. Although she was willing to bet almost all of the money in the world that she was going insane, she knew it wasn't true. After all, Mrs. Dodds was real, the bronze sword that was at the moment a pen was real, so why should she be going insane at this moment, of all times? And yet, she could smell that she remembered from the multiple field trips from kindergarten to the petting zoo—lanolin, like from wool. The smell of a wet barnyard animal.

_**Satyr.**_ The word rang out in her head like crazy. Mr. Brunner had taught them that in Latin class, just like the rest of the myths that he had taught. That didn't mean that this was still highly impossible, though.

Yet, with all the billions of questions swarming her brain, the only one she could think to say was, "So you and Dad. . . . Know each other?"

Grover's eyes flitted to the rearview mirror, though there were no cars behind theirs. Not at this time of night. "Not exactly," he replied. "I mean, we've never met in person. He knew that we were watching you, but that's where it ends, really."

"Watching or stalking me?"

"Keeping tabs on you. Making sure you were okay. Alive, at the very least. But I wasn't faking being your friend," he added hastily, "I am your friend."

"_**Right.**_"

"I wasn't stalking you, Percy," Grover said, exasperated. He stole another glance at the rearview mirror. "I was _**trying**_ to keep you safe. But then you unexpectedly run away, and how am I supposed to explain that, or to make sure that you don't wind up getting yourself killed?"

"I don't need protection!" she fired back. "I've been perfectly fine! Nobody's hurt me or anything! And how exactly are you supposed to keep me safe and be my friend when you lie directly to my face and pretend that you think I'm going insane? How?"

"It'll take too much time to explain," her best friend replied uneasily. "And let's just say, we don't have that kind of time on our hands, at the moment."

"Time? Explanations? Damn it, Grover! Why are we running in the first place, huh? Is it because I'm not safe anymore, how? Because I ran? God, you run away from a school, some ladies cut some yarn, and then suddenly everybody acts like you're going to _**die**_ in just a few hours!"

In the next flash of lightning, she could see a little bit clearer that her best friend was extremely pale. "What do you mean some ladies cut some yarn?" he asked urgently.

"Why does it matter?" Percy demanded. "You just said there was no time to explain! Why should I explain, hmm?"

He let out a sigh. "Percy, we had to try and keep you safe. If you thought that Mrs. Dodds was just a hallucination, then you'd attract fewer monsters. Obviously, that didn't work, as you stole the sword. Really, why the sword? Anyways, we put the Mist over the human's eyes so that you would think the Kindly One didn't exist, that she was all in your head. But, you've already started to realize who you are."

"Who I am? I'm a twelve year old girl currently trying to figure out what the heck is going on! But so far, I haven't received any other answers besides what you just said. What's the Mist? What's a Kindly One?"

"Are you sure that she isn't a daughter of Wisdom, Mr. Jackson?"

Salus looked into the rearview mirror, his sea blue eyes now a sea green. "Positive."

The weird bellowing noise came once again, except this time it was closer than before, almost directly behind them. It was still on their trail.

"What are we running from, Grover? _**WHAT?**_"

"Oh, nobody," her best friend replied. "Just the Lord of the Dead and his blood thirstiest minions, that's all."

"_**Grover!**_"

"Sorry, Mr. Jackson. Could you drive faster, please?"

Percy blinked as the car shot forwards, knocking her into her seat. Looking down at her arm, she rolled up the sleeve of her jacket and pinched the pale skin. Once again, she realized it wasn't a dream. But how was this all possible? Sure, she had imagination, but she couldn't hallucinate something like this. It was hard to get her mind to wrap around it all.

Her father made a hard left, and they swerved onto a narrower road. Darkened farmhouses and wooded hills raced past them, and she was positive she saw a _**PICK YOUR OWN STRAWBERRIES**_ sign on a white picket fence, more of them following after that one.

"Where are we going?"

"The summer camp that I told you about," Salus said tightly, obviously showing that he was trying his best not to show his fear. That struck a chord within her, her father was hardly _**ever**_ scared. "The place that your mother wanted to send you."

"Dad, it's the place that you didn't want me to go to! You said even then it's most likely not safe for me! Why are we going there now?"

"You're in danger. Simple as that. Please, try to understand here. It's hard enough."

"Because some ladies cut some yarn, and because I ran away from Yancy."

"Percy!" Grover unexpectedly snapped. "They weren't just regular women; get it through your head! Those were the Fates. Do you know what it means—if they appear in front of you, do you know what it means? They only do that when you're about to. . . . When somebody's about to die. You can't just kid yourself with the fact that you thought they were just regular people!"

"The Fates? You mean _**Moirai**_? Grover, that's all a myth! You're supposed to be a myth! Why now, so suddenly, am I supposed to believe in all of this bull? And you just suggested that I'm going to die! Last time I checked, I'm alive and very healthy, thank you very much!" she glared at him, anger rising.

"Mrs. Dodds wasn't a myth, Percy! And I'm not, either! And I didn't say that you were going to die, I said that 'someone' was."

"Grover! Stop lying to me!"

"Percy! Grover!"

Percy looked out the window, at the racing countryside. And to think, she had thought that this day would turn out to be normal. Nope. People suddenly decide to spring all of this on her unexpectedly, and then think that she could handle it well! No, she couldn't, and right now she can't. The Fates exist. Satyrs exist. Mrs. Dodds was something called a Kindly One, although she was most certainly _**not**_ nice or even remotely so. She now has a death threat appearing on her head, just because three women decided to cut some storm-grey yarn, which wasn't a color she would've chosen to knit with. And they expected her to handle all of this _**well**_.

It was a good thing she didn't have panic attacks often, though there had been some times that she did have one.

Almost as if he had read her mind, though in reality he had just read her facial expression, Salus replied, "Percy, I should've explained this to you a long time ago. We're not expecting you to take this like its homework, kiddo. It's not as simple as that."

Grover nodded, but all she could think to say was, "It's not your fault, Dad."

Percy was pretty sure she heard him mutter, "I wish it was that easy."

Another roar came. And then, well, Percy couldn't exactly describe what happened. A streak of lightning came, and caused unearthly whiteness everywhere. It was absolute hell on her eyes. She let out a short scream, immediately putting her hands to her eyes as they stung. Salus shouted explicit words, and then there was a boom. She didn't know if it was thunder or whatever it was that was behind them that caused the noise, but she suddenly felt weightless.

Then, to top it all off, the car exploded.

It felt like she was on fire. A hot, searing, sensation came from every part of her body, and her chest felt like it was being crushed. Blood rushed in her ears, and then numbness washed over her. It was almost a completely welcoming feeling.

Shaking her head ever so slightly, Percy then peeled her forehead off of the driver's seat, saying rather bluntly, "Ow."

"Percy!" Salus exclaimed.

"'M fine," she muttered, before opening her eyes. Once she did, however, she said, "Okay, maybe I'm not fine."

Thousands of tiny black dots filled her vision, making it incredibly hard to see. She winced, hoping they would clear up soon enough. If they didn't, well, she felt like it was a very nice statement to say that she would be screwed.

"The dots?" her father asked in an understanding tone, and she nodded her head, before the two of them remembered the fact that something was chasing them.

The car really hadn't exploded, thank God, and she really wasn't dead. They had swerved into a ditch. Mud caused the driver's side doors to be wedged into it, and judging from the sizzling sound above her, the roof had cracked open from lightning. Just to prove her point, rain started to pour in. _**Great.**_

Percy then noticed the motionless lump next to her. Turning, she could vaguely make out Grover through the dots. "Grover!"

The satyr in question was slumped over, a line of blood pouring from his mouth. She slapped him on the shoulder. _Dude! Wake up! I haven't been able to yell at you fully yet!_

"Food," he mumbled. There was hope.

"Kiddo," Salus said, "We have to. . . ." But he trailed off.

Percy turned once again, except this time she looked back. The dots suddenly cleared, and through the mud-splattered rear windshield, she saw a figure walking unsteadily towards them. The sight of him made her skin crawl and almost made her gag. If her night-sight hadn't been so good, she could've mistook him for some sort of football player, she guessed. But he was far from that. He was seven feet tall, at least, arms and legs revoltingly muscled up to the extremes, like baseballs and watermelons underneath his skin. He wore no clothes, save for bright white Fruit of the Looms underwear. The upper part of his body, though, was the worse. He had brown hair that only seemed to get thicker and thicker, and his monstrous neck led to his head, which was most definitely _**not**_ human. He had a snout a little bit longer than her arm, nostrils that held a brass ring in place, cruel black eyes, and horns. Don't forget the horns.

They were enormous, black-and-white horns that were so sharp Percy didn't doubt that they could pierce through just about anything.

She recognized him immediately, and then she actually did gag. He was at the top of the monsters she hated the most, as not only was he the offspring of bestiality, but also just because he was a monster. "That's—" she began, but Salus cut her off.

"Pasiphae's son, names have power, Percy," he replied before throwing himself against the driver's side door, but to no avail. It was jammed shut in the mud. Most of the black spots having cleared, she tried it as well, only to have the same outcome.

Percy looked up at the roof, and then shook her head. It would be no luck. She really didn't want to be Minotaur food, and that was sure to be the easiest way to get shocked or cooked alive. "Climb out the passenger door!" Salus yelled as a clap of thunder came. "Percy, you have to run. Do you see that big pine tree?"

_**"WHAT?"**_ she shrieked, just as another flash of lightning hit; wincing, she looked up at her father. "I'm not leaving you here, Dad! No way in—"

"You'll have to. The tree's the property line. Get over that hill and you'll see a big farmhouse, down in the valley. Run and don't look back. Yell for help. Don't stop until you reach the door. Somebody will be there to help you, I promise."

"Daddy, you're coming too."

Percy met eyes that were the same color as hers. Her father's face was pale, his eyes as sad as when he remembered the day that her mother had left, and the night that he had found out that she was missing. But then, a small smile crossed his features, and he said, "You're mother will protect me. But you have to get to safety!"

She blinked, before shaking her head. "No! You're coming with me! Help me carry Grover!"

"Food!" Grover moaned, and she sent him a worried glance. Even if she was angry at him, even if he was a satyr, he was still her best friend. And best friends didn't allow each other to die.

The Minotaur was making some sort of noise, almost like snorting. That only fueled her more. Percy wasn't going to leave her father behind; it was either that he come with her or she would sit there. Besides, she did have the pen, but this time it didn't provide her any sort of comfort. Instead, it just made her feel slightly unrelaxed. "He doesn't want _**us**_," Salus told her, "He wants _**you**_. Besides, I can't cross the property line."

"But. . . ."

"We don't have time for this, Percy. Go. Please."

Her anger boiled. If anybody else had seen her, they would've said that her eyes flashed a dangerous indigo, but they would've blinked before shaking their heads. Mortals, anyways. She was furious. At her father, at Grover the goat, and at the Minotaur that was getting even closer. Darkness seemed to suffocate the car, though Percy could see perfectly fine. Still, she managed to keep up a level of calmness as she climbed over Grover and opened the side door, causing rain to pour in and cold wind making her shiver. "We're going together," Percy insisted. "Come on, Dad."

"I told you—"

"I'm not leaving you! So come on and help me out with Grover!"

Though she didn't wait for his answer, she could've sworn he said, "You have your mother's temper." Nevertheless, she scrambled outside, the cold only increasing, and she dragged Grover from the car. He was surprisingly light, but she couldn't have carried him very far unless Salus had helped her out, which he did. Together, they draped Grover's arms over their shoulders and started to stumble through the tall grass, leaving the ruined car behind.

Percy took a glance back, even though she already knew that the Minotaur most likely had their scent, and would keep on following them. He had incredibly bad eyesight and hearing, but his sense of smell was rather extraordinary. This had to be one of the first times ever that she was thankful for knowing Greek mythology.

Turning to look back up at the hill, she realized with a sense of dread that the pine tree was still too far away—a hundred yards at least.

She took another glance again. The monster was sniffing the ruined car, seemingly nuzzling the windows. Her dread increased. It wouldn't be long now, and even if they were fifty feet away, Percy knew that it wouldn't be long now. They were still too far away from the pine tree, and because of that they were practically dead meat. She could possibly save them with the pen, but her hands were shaking immensely and pessimistic thoughts were ruling over her mind.

"Food?" Grover moaned.

"Quiet, goat boy," Percy immediately replied.

The monster roared in rage, making the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. He picked up the car with his meaty hands by the torn roof, raising it above his head before he threw it down onto the road. A shower of white-gold sparks appeared in the air, wet asphalt colliding with smoking car. It skidded for about half a mile before coming to a stop, because the gas tank exploded, causing fire to appear. Percy winced, feeling sympathy for the car. Nothing deserved to be thrown by that thing, even if it was Nancy Bobofit.

"Percy," Salus said. "When he sees us, he'll charge. Wait until the last second, then jump out of the way—directly sideways. He can't change directions very well once he's charging. Do you understand?"

"Of course."

Another bellow of rage came, before the Minotaur began his trek up the hill.

He caught their scent.

The pine tree was only a few more yards away, but the hill was getting steeper and slicker; mud was making it hard to get a good hold on the ground. Grover wasn't getting any lighter, either. The monster closed in; another few seconds and he would be on top of them. Her father must've been exhausted, but he carried on and shouldered Grover. "Percy! Now! Go! Remember what I said!"

Percy didn't want to split up, but nevertheless, she darted to the left and turned around. Black eyes glowed with hate, and he reeked of rotten meat. She nearly gagged again. But, the thought of gagging was lost as the monster lowered his head and charged. His horns were aimed straight at her chest. She wanted to jump and get out of the way, not because of fear, but because she wanted to go back to Salus and Grover and make it over the property line. But it wouldn't work. She couldn't outrun this thing. So, Percy waited until the very last second, and then jumped out of the way, to the side.

The Minotaur charged past her, almost like a freight train. She had no time to process this thought, however, as the bull-man then bellowed before turning around. But not towards Percy; no, it was much worse. He turned towards Salus, who was currently setting Grover down on the soaking wet grass.

They had reached the crest of the hill. Down on the other side she could see a valley, one which she would usually describe as beautiful. Just as her father had said, the yellow lights of the farmhouse glowed through the rain. But that was another half mile way. They would never make it.

The bull-man grunted, pawing at the ground. He kept eying Salus, who was now slowly retreating down the hill, most likely trying to get the beast away from Grover. "Run, Percy!" he shouted. "Run! I can't go any farther!"

Instead, she stood there, frozen with shock, and now fear. Her mind was screaming at her to do something, but her feet were rooted to the ground and were not moving. The monster charged her father. He tried to sidestep, but the Minotaur seemed to be learning rather quickly. His hand shot out and grabbed Salus by the neck. Her father struggled, kicking and pummeling in the air, but it was no use. "DAD!" she screamed.

He caught her eyes, both pairs the same sea green color. Years of love, kindness, and adoration shone through his, but also a level of sadness and grief as well. "Go!" he choked out, before the monster roared and closed his fists around her father's neck. He seemed to dissolve before Percy's eyes, melting into a light, a shimmering golden form. A blinding flash, which normally would've caused her to wince or close her eyes, and then he was simply gone.

Gone.

An unearthly scream ripped from her throat, tearing through the air as if it was a blade. _**"NO!"**_

Anger replaced Percy's fear, as well as grief, to levels that she had never experienced. Blood rushed through her ears once again, and she felt a rush of energy, of adrenaline—the same when she had fought Mrs. Dodds, but she didn't register that fact. In a moment, all the good moments she had with Salus racked through her brain, memories of baking cookies, coloring and having non-girly tea parties, being hugged as she cried into his shoulder about how she was a freak, and his reassurance that she wasn't. It tore through her like a blade, and a shard of ice seemed to lodge itself into her heart. She didn't pay any attention to that, though.

The Minotaur looked down at Grover, who still lay helpless in the grass. He started to sniff him, and the thought of the beast making her best friend turn into gold dust like Salus sparked new anger through her.

The night seemed to get darker, so dark that she couldn't see the lightning anymore. Thunder continued to pound, though, and rain continued to crash down on them. "HOW DARE YOU!" Percy screeched, and the Minotaur paused for a second, it seemed almost bewildered. "HOW DARE YOU! YOU KILLED MY FATHER, YOU UGLY BULL!"

That seemed to tick the now supposed-vain monster off. He forgot Grover, and instead charged at her, bellowing all the while and shaking his meaty fists. He didn't seem to know very well how angry she got. Yet. A grin flashed across her face at the thought, but the grin was more of a slightly maniacal one, one who seemed to want revenge. And that was exactly what she was aiming for. She had an idea, what some people would call a stupid idea, but it was better than no idea at all. Or at least, that's what she told herself.

Putting her back to the pine tree, she waited. He got her scent once again, so it wouldn't be too hard. She could jump away at the last minute, but of course it didn't happen like that. Instead, the bull-man charged too fast, his arms out to grab her no matter where she tried to dodge.

Time seemed to slow down.

Percy's legs tensed. She couldn't jump sideways, so instead she launched herself by the tree, kicking off the monster's head like it was a springboard, twisting around before finally landing on the back of its neck. _How did I just do that?_

Just a millisecond later, the Minotaur's head slammed into the tree, and the impact nearly knocked her teeth out. He staggered around, obviously dazed from the run-in. But he was still trying to shake her off of him. Seemingly on their own accord, her arms locked around the horns to keep herself from being thrown. Thunder still cracked, and rain was pouring in her eyes, causing her to blink more than just a few times.

The bull-man shook himself around and Percy felt like she was on a bull at a rodeo. He could've backed into the tree, and that would be the end of her. But then again, this thing had only one gear: forward.

Meanwhile, Grover was still moaning for food in the grass. She desperately wanted to tell him to shut up, but was afraid that if she did, she would bite her tongue off.

"Food!" Grover said, as if he was trying to prove her point.

The Minotaur ran towards him, pawing the ground and getting ready to charge; he must've forgotten that he had an angry twelve year old girl on his back. Anger fueled her once more as Percy thought about Salus' fate, and her hands strangled one of the horns and she pulled back with all her might. The monster tensed, and then came a sudden _**SNAP**_!

The beast screamed as she was thrown off his neck and was flung into the air, landing flat on her back in the grass. Her head throbbed as it was smacked against a rock, and when she sat up, her vision was blurry. But, on the slightly better side, she had a weapon in her hands: the horn.

The monster charged.

On instinct and without thinking, she rolled to the side and came up kneeling. As the monster ran past, she grinned and drove the horn straight into his side, through his furry rib cage. He roared in agony, and she thought, _serves you right_. He flailed about, clawing his chest, already knowing his fate. He then exploded in a flash of golden light, not like Salus, but the same way that Mrs. Dodds had. He was gone.

The rain had stopped. Darkness had mostly cleared up, as it was still nighttime. Thunder still rumbled, but only in the distance. Percy was vaguely aware of the fact that her knees were shaking, as her left shoulder and head throbbed painfully. She was weak, scared, and shaking with grief at the thought of her father vanished from thin air. All Percy really wanted to do was curl into a ball and cry, be vulnerable for once, but something made her get up and stumble over to Grover, managing to haul him up and stumble more, down into the valley where the golden lights were at. She was also vaguely aware of the fact that salty tears were making their way down her cheeks and that she was calling for Salus. She didn't let Grover go, though.

Finally, she had barely made her way up wooden steps until she collapsed onto the porch, looking up at the bright light from the lamp, pain radiating from her eyes. There was a ceiling fan circling above her, and then three people were looking down at her. One of them she recognized as a familiar-looking bearded man, and then there was a girl with blonde hair curled like a princess's.

The other she couldn't make out very well, as her side vision was still blurry. But his cerulean blue eyes stood out, looking directly into hers. She stared back, not able to do anything else.

The girl suddenly said, "She's the one. She has to be."

"Silence, Annabeth, she's still conscious," the bearded man replied, before adding, "Luke, bring her inside."

Somebody was lifting her up and off the ground, strong arms bringing her in close to his chest. Warmth radiated from him, as he began to walk, the pace made her sleepy. But Percy didn't want to fall asleep yet, though. Still, the warmth was comforting, it meant safety. Her body moved on its own, snuggling in closer; she didn't mind.

_**"Sleep, Percy." **_A familiar voice said, its tone so comforting. _**"You were brave, and you proved yourself. Sleep. You're safe now."**_

Nodding slightly, Percy closed her eyes willingly as sleep welcomed her in its embrace.

**A/N: Done! Early update, yay! Oh my god(s), I have no idea what to say about this chapter. I hope you guys liked the ending to it, though. I would say guess who, but since we already know who it is, I won't. Some Lukercy, yay!**

**Hmm. . . . **_**Well**_**, that's pretty much all I have.**

**Dogbiscuit1967: Thanks, and thanks again for the review!**

**See ya'll next chapter!**


End file.
